He went to the window wonderingly.  The window commanded a wide view of the garden.  Looking out into the garden he could see a man, a very tall and very broad young man, who stood with muscular arms folded across a great chest.  The young man was leaning against an old rose-red brick wall, smoking a pipe and obviously waiting.  The most noticeable thing about the young man was that he was exceptionally big and of powerful build and determined appearance.  Another thing that Slotman noticed about him was that he was not Mr. Hugh Alston, whom he remembered perfectly.

“Well?”

“That gentleman is a friend of mine, related to the lady who lives with me.  If I call on him and ask him to persuade you to go and not return, he will do so.”

“Oh, he will, and what then?”

“I don’t understand you—­what then?  Why did you come here uninvited?  Why did you send an untruthful message by my servant—­that I would not recognise your name?”

“Trying to bluff me, aren’t you?” Slotman said.  He looked her in the eyes.  “But it won’t come off, Joan; no, my dear, I’ve been too busy of late to be taken in by your airs and defiance!” He laughed.  “I’ve been making quite a round, here, there, and everywhere, and all because of you, Joan—­all because of you!  Among other places I’ve been to,” he went on, seeing that she stood silent and unmoved, “is Marlbury You remember it, eh?  A nice little town, quiet though.  I had a long talk with Miss Skinner—­remember her, don’t you, Joany?”

Her eyes glittered.  “Mr. Slotman, I am trying to understand what this means.  Is it that you are mad or intoxicated?  Why do you come here to me with all these statements?  Why do you come here at all?”

“Marlbury,” he continued unmoved, “a nice, quiet little place.  I spent some time in the church there, and at the Council offices, looking for something, for something I didn’t find, Joany—­and didn’t expect to find either, come to that, ha, ha!” He laughed.  “No, never expected to find, but, to make dead sure, I went to Morchester, and hunted there, Joany, and still I didn’t find what I was looking for and knew I shouldn’t find!”

“Mr. Slotman!”

“You aren’t curious, are you?  You won’t ask what I was looking for, perhaps you can guess!” He took a step nearer to her.  “You can guess, can’t you, Joany?” he said.

“I am not attempting to guess.  I can only imagine that you are not in your sane senses.  You will now go, and if you return—­”

“Wait a moment.  What I was looking for at Marlbury and Morchester and did not find—­was evidence of a marriage having taken place in June, nineteen eighteen, between Hugh Alston and Joan Meredyth.  But there’s no such evidence, none!  Ah, that touches you a bit, don’t it?  Now you begin to understand why I ain’t taken in by your fine dignity!”

“You—­you have been looking for—­for evidence of a marriage—­my marriage with—­what do you mean?”