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“There have been moments when I did, but always I knew those moments wouldn’t last.”

“You’re one of the forgiving kind—I’m not.” She rose as she spoke. The storm that had swept her was over. “I’ll go now—good night.”

In another moment she had passed out of the inner door, through the narrow hall, and was gone.

What did she mean to do? Still, Ann had no clew as to her intentions.

It was half an hour before Ann could get the trunk call through to Omoana, and so on to Tirau; but at last she heard Dick Holmes’s familiar voice at the other end of the wire.

“Holmes speaking.”

“It’s Ann Merrill here.”

“Yes.”

“Mrs. Holmes arrived by the service car from Hawkeston today. She has been in to see me.”

There was a long pause, and then Holmes’s voice came again.

“Well?”

Both he and Ann knew that there was more than a possibility that the conversation could be overheard. Tirau was on a party line. Any one else on the line, at that moment standing at their telephones, could hear all that passed.

“I didn’t ask her what her plans were. But she’s been very ill in Sydney—I expect you knew that.” (This was for the benefit of any chance listeners.) “She’s staying at the Imperial tonight. Is there any