“Well, I’m blowed!” He swung one leg across the other, making his chair describe a semicircle.

“Perhaps you won’t be so much—­blowed, when you hear all I have to tell you.”

“Go ahead; I’m more interested than if it was a dime novel.”

As lucidly as she could she gave him the outline of Ford’s romance, dwelling as he had done in relating it to her, less on its incidents than on its mental and moral effect upon himself.  She suppressed the narrative of the weeks spent in the cabin and based her report entirely on information received from Ford.  For testimony as to his life and character in the Argentine she had the evidence of Miss Jarrott, while on the subject of his business abilities—­no small point with a New York business man, as she was astute enough to see—­there could be no better authority than Conquest himself, who, as Stephens and Jarrott’s American legal adviser, had had ample opportunity of judging.  She was gratified to note that as her story progressed it called forth sympathetic looks, and an occasional appreciative exclamation, while now and then he slapped his thigh as a mark of the kind of amused astonishment that verges on approbation.

“So we couldn’t desert him now, after she’s been so brave, could we?” she pleaded, with some amount of confidence; “and especially when he’s engaged to Evie.”

“I suppose we can’t desert him, if he’s sane.”

“Oh, he’s sane.”

“Then why the deuce, when he was so well out of harm’s way, didn’t he stay there?”

“Because of his love for Evie, don’t you see?” She had to explain Ford’s moral development and psychological state all over again, until he could see it with some measure of comprehension.

“It certainly is the queerest story I ever heard,” he declared, in enjoyment of its dramatic elements, “and we’re all in it, aren’t we?  It’s like seeing yourself in a play.”

“I thought you would look at it in that way.  As soon as I began wondering what we could do—­this morning—­I saw that, after Evie, you were the person most concerned.”

“Who?  I?  Why am I concerned?  I’ve got nothing to do with it!”

“No, of course not, except as Stephens and Jarrott’s lawyer.  When their representative in New York—­”

“Oh, but my dear girl, my duties don’t involve me in anything of this kind.  I’m the legal adviser to the firm, but I’ve nothing to do with the private affairs of their employees.”

“Mr. Jarrott is very fond of Mr. Strange—­”

“Perhaps this will cool his affection.”

“I don’t think it will as long as Evie insists on marrying him.  I’m sure they mean to stand by him.”

“They won’t be able to stand by him long, if the law gives him—­what it meant to give him before.”

“Oh, but you don’t think there’s any danger of that?”

“I don’t know about it,” he said, shaking his head, ominously.  “The fact that he comes back and gives himself up isn’t an argument in favor of his innocence.  There’s generally remorse behind that dodge.”