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For
a
moment
,
I
thought
she
wavered
.
A
softer
expression
came
over
her
face
,
then
suddenly
she
turned
almost
fiercely
away
.
“
None
!
”
She
was
walking
away
when
John
sprang
after
her
,
and
caught
her
by
the
arm
.
“
Mary
”
—
his
voice
was
very
quiet
now
—
“
are
you
in
love
with
this
fellow
Bauerstein
?
”
She
hesitated
,
and
suddenly
there
swept
across
her
face
a
strange
expression
,
old
as
the
hills
,
yet
with
something
eternally
young
about
it
.
So
might
some
Egyptian
sphinx
have
smiled
.
She
freed
herself
quietly
from
his
arm
,
and
spoke
over
her
shoulder
.
“
Perhaps
,
”
she
said
;
and
then
swiftly
passed
out
of
the
little
glade
,
leaving
John
standing
there
as
though
he
had
been
turned
to
stone
.
Rather
ostentatiously
,
I
stepped
forward
,
crackling
some
dead
branches
with
my
feet
as
I
did
so
.
John
turned
.
Luckily
,
he
took
it
for
granted
that
I
had
only
just
come
upon
the
scene
.
“
Hullo
,
Hastings
.
Have
you
seen
the
little
fellow
safely
back
to
his
cottage
?
Quaint
little
chap
!
Is
he
any
good
,
though
,
really
?
”
“
He
was
considered
one
of
the
finest
detectives
of
his
day
.
”
