"Is Mr. Julian Gray here?" he asked.

Julian led Grace to a seat. Her eyes were fixed on the man. She

trembled--she whispered, "Who is he?" Julian spoke to the police officer

without answering her.

"Wait there," he said, pointing to a chair in the most distant corner of

the room. "I will speak to you directly."

The man advanced to the chair, marching to the discord of his creaking

boots. He privately valued the carpet at so much a yard as he walked

over it. He privately valued the chair at so much the dozen as he sat

down on it. He was quite at his ease: it was no matter to him whether he

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waited and did nothing, or whether he pried into the private character

of every one in the room, as long as he was paid for it.

Even Lady Janet's resolution to act for herself was not proof against

the appearance of the policeman in plain clothes. She left it to her

nephew to take the lead. Julian glanced at Mercy before he stirred

further in the matter. He alone knew that the end rested now not with

him but with her.

She felt his eye on her while her own eyes were looking at the man. She

turned her head--hesitated--and suddenly approached Julian. Like Grace

Roseberry, she was trembling. Like Grace Roseberry, she whispered, "Who

is he?"

Julian told her plainly who he was.

"Why is he here?"

"Can't you guess?"

"No!"

Horace left Lady Janet, and joined Mercy and Julian--impatient of the

private colloquy between them.

"Am I in the way?" he inquired.

Julian drew back a little, understanding Horace perfectly. He looked

round at Grace. Nearly the whole length of the spacious room divided

them from the place in which she was sitting. She had never moved

since he had placed her in a chair. The direst of all terrors was in

possession of her--terror of the unknown. There was no fear of her

interfering, and no fear of her hearing what they said so long as

they were careful to speak in guarded tones. Julian set the example by

lowering his voice.

"Ask Horace why the police officer is here?" he said to Mercy.

She put the question directly. "Why is he here?"

Horace looked across the room at Grace, and answered, "He is here to

relieve us of that woman."

"Do you mean that he will take her away?"

"Yes."

"Where will he take her to?"

"To the police station."

Mercy started, and looked at Julian. He was still watching the slightest

changes in her face. She looked back again at Horace.

"To the police station!" she repeated. "What for?"

"How can you ask the question?" said Horace, irritably. "To be placed

under restraint, of course."




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