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For no reason at all Ann suddenly hated Mrs. Bentley.

Ann went to the dance. Again, she was not quite sure whom she had to thank for this further festivity. A queer little suspicion—which she instantly dismissed as disloyal and absurd—had occurred to her. Did Mrs. Holmes raise no objection to the arrangement because Ann took Dick Holmes off her hands, and allowed her—Vera—to devote herself to Waring? Ridiculous! Waring and Mrs. Holmes were just old friends, and nothing more. Vera loved admiration from any man, and she looked upon Gerald as her own especial property. She teased him openly about his flirtations; told him frankly that mo woman with any sense would ever take him seriously; but admitted that his conversation amused her when he could manage to get away for a few minutes from the everlasting and enthralling subject of sheep.

Surely that wasn’t the manner of a woman carrying on any underhand flirtation? And Waring was Dick Holmes’s best friend.

Ann scolded herself for the fleeting moment of distrust.

In spite of the excitement of stuffing thirty-five dirty pound notes, and some odd silver, into her bag after Nigger’s sensational win, Ann had found the rest of the afternoon at the races a little flat, and she made up her mind that she would enjoy every moment of the dance.

She had not seen Marsh after the race. Driving with Holmes into Omoana after dinner, she learnt