He played softly on for a space, then as the old butler entered with a tea-tray, he abruptly left the piano to wait upon her.  He made her sit in the window-seat and presently sat down himself and talked of indifferent things.  She did not attempt to bring him back to the matter in hand.  She knew him too well for that.  If he chose to be elusive, no power on earth could capture him.

But she had a strong feeling that he would not seek to elude her wholly.  He might seem to trifle, as a monkey swinging idly from bough to bough, but he had an end in view, and ultimately he would reach that end, however circuitous the route.

He surprised her eventually by the suddenness with which he pounced upon it.  He had turned the talk upon the subject of his new yacht, and very abruptly he announced his intention of going round the world in her.

“Not alone?” she said, and then would have checked the words lest they should seem to ask too much.

But he answered her without a pause.  “Yes, alone.  And if I don’t come back, Bunny can marry Toby and reign here in my stead.  That is, if he isn’t an infernal fool.  If he is, then Toby can reign here alone—­with you and Jake to take care of her.”

“But, Charlie, why—­why?” The words leapt from Maud in spite of her.

He frowned at her whimsically.  “They’ve always cared for one another.  Don’t you know it?  It’s true she put me in a shrine and worshipped me for a time, but I couldn’t live up to it. Figurez-vous, ma chere! Myself—­a marble saint!”

“You never understood her,” Maud said.

He shrugged his shoulders and went lightly on.  “Oh, she was ready enough to offer me human sacrifice, but that wasn’t enough for me.  Besides, I didn’t want sacrifice.  I have stood between her and the world.  I have given her protection.  But it was a free gift.  I don’t take anything in exchange for that.”  An odd note sounded in his voice, as of some emotion suppressed.  He leaned back against the window-frame, his hands behind his head.  “That wasn’t what I married her for.  I tried to prove that to her.  I actually thought—­” the old derisive grin leapt across his face—­“that I could win her trust like any ordinary man.  I failed of course—­failed hideously.  She never expected decent treatment from me.  She never even began to trust me.  I was far too heavily handicapped for that.  And so—­as soon as the wind changed—­the boat capsized.”

“What made the wind change?” Maud asked gently.

He looked across at her, the baffling smile still in his eyes.  “The gods played a jest with us,” he said.  “It was only a small jest, but it turned the scale.  She fled.  That was how I came to realize I couldn’t hold her.  I had travelled too fast as usual, and she couldn’t keep up.  Well,” he unlocked his hands and straightened himself, “it’s up to Bunny now.  I’ll let her go—­to him.”

“My dear!” Maud said.