“So you don’t think Mr. Chayne destroyed them?”

“It’s an act of folly of which a literary man like Mr. Chayne would be incapable.”

“And you’ve never seen any of it?”

“I’ve given you my word of honour.”

“Then it’s very extraordinary,” said Doria.

“It is,” said Wittekind, stiffly.

She thrust out her hand and flashed a generous glance.

“Forgive me for being bewildered.  But it’s so upsetting.  You have nothing whatever to do with it.  It’s all Jaffery Chayne.”  She looked up at the loosely built, kindly man.  “It’s for him to give explanations.  In the meanwhile, I leave my dear, dear husband’s memory in your hands—­to keep green, as you say”—­tears came into her eyes—­“and you will, won’t you?”

The pathos of her attitude dissolved all resentment.  He bent over her, still holding her hand.

“You may be quite sure of that,” said he.  “Even we publishers have our ideals—­and our purest is to distribute through the world the works of a man of genius.”

So Doria having telephoned for permission to come and see us on urgent business, arrived at Northlands late in the afternoon, full of the virtues of Wittekind and the vices of Jaffery.  She gave us a full account of her interview and appealed to me for explanations of Jaffery’s extraordinary conduct.  I upbraided myself bitterly for having counselled her to bite Wittekind.  I ought, instead, to have thrown every possible obstacle in the way of her meeting him.  I ought to have foreseen this question of the manuscripts, the one weak spot in our web of deception.  Now I may be a liar when driven by necessity from the paths of truth, but I am not an accomplished liar.  It is not my fault.  Mere providence has guided my life through such gentle pastures that I have had no practice worth speaking of.  Barbara, too, is an amateur in mendacity.  Both of us were sorely put to it under Doria’s indignant and suspicious cross-examination.

“You saw the original manuscript of ’The Greater Glory’?”

“Yes,” I lied.

“Did you see the original manuscript of ’The Diamond Gate’?”

“No,” I lied again.

“Was it among Adrian’s papers?”

“Not to my knowledge.  Probably if Adrian didn’t send it to the printers, he destroyed it.”

“I don’t believe he destroyed it.  Jaffery has got it, and he has also got the manuscript of ‘The Greater Glory.’  What does he want them for?”

“That’s a leading question, my dear, which I can’t answer, because I don’t know whether he has them or not.  In fact, I know nothing whatever about them.”

“It sounds horrid and ungracious, Hilary, after all you’ve done for me,” said Doria, “but I really think you ought to know something.”