Dick did not lift his head.  As a matter of fact, at that moment he could not.  But, though his throat contracted, so that speech became impossible, in his heart he was saying:  “What a woman!  Lor, what a woman!  Ninety-nine out of a hundred would have offered me tea—­and tea that had stood an hour; and the hundredth would have sent for a policeman!  But she jumps instantly to whisky and soda; and then walks across and makes me feel at home.  Eh, well!  We shall save old Ronnie between us.”

She administered the whisky and soda when it appeared; sitting gently beside him, in exceeding friendliness.

The rugged honesty of the youth appealed to her.  His very griminess seemed but an earnest of his steadfast purpose, and suited her present mood of utter disillusion with the artistic and the beautiful.

Dick’s look of keen alertness, his sense of forceful vigour, soon returned to him.

He stood up, surveyed himself in the glass, then turned with a rueful smile to Helen.

“It was both kind and brave of you, Mrs. West,” he said, “not to send for a policeman.”

Helen laughed.  “I think I know an honest man when I see him, Dr. Dick.  You must let me use the name by which I have always heard of you.  Now, can you explain more fully?”

“Certainly,” said Dick, getting out of his ulster, and sitting down.  “But I must begin by asking a few more questions.  Did you get your cousin’s letter yesterday morning?  It was absolutely essential you should receive it before Ronnie reached home.  I hoped you would act upon it at once.”

Helen gazed at him, aghast.

“I did receive my cousin’s letter,” she said.

“Was it quite explicit, Mrs. West?”

“It was absolutely explicit.”

“Ah!  Then on that point I admit I have wronged him.  But you must excuse me if I say that I am inclined to consider your cousin a liar and a scoundrel.”

Helen’s face was white and stern.  “I am afraid I have long known him to be both, Dr. Dick.”

“Then you will not wonder that when I found he was not keeping his word to me, and bringing Ronnie home, I dashed off in pursuit.”

“Was there ever any question of his returning with my husband?”

It was Dick’s turn to look perplexed.

“Of course there was.  In fact, he gave me his word in the matter.  I mistrusted him, however, and the more I thought it over, the more uneasy I grew.  Yesterday morning, the day he was to have crossed with Ronnie, I called at his flat and found he was expected back there to-day.  I should dearly have liked to wait and wring his neck on arrival, but naturally Ronnie’s welfare came first.  I could not catch the night boat at the Hague, but I dashed off via Brussels, crossed from Boulogne this morning, reached London forty minutes too late for the 3 o’clock train to Hollymead.  There was no other until five, and that a slow one.  So I taxied off to a man I know in town who owns several cars, borrowed his fastest, and raced down here, forty miles an hour.  Even then I got here too late.  However, no harm has been done.  But you will understand that prompt action was necessary.  What on earth was your cousin’s little game?”