“As I told you, he was the first to find us—­to find me, I should say, for my stupid maid was having hysterics farther up the line, and Ko Ko was lost.  I remember the first thing I did was to send him in search of Ko Ko—­”

Notwithstanding his position, Loder found occasion to smile.  “Did he succeed?” he said, dryly.

“Succeed?  Oh yes, he succeeded.”  She also smiled involuntarily.  “Poor Ko Ko was stowed away under the luggage-van; and after quite a lot of trouble he pulled him out.  When it was all done the dog was quite unhurt and livelier than ever, but the Englishman had his finger almost bitten through.  Ko Ko was a dear, but his teeth and his temper were both very sharp!” She laughed once more in soft amusement.

Loder was silent for a second, then he too laughed—­Chilcote’s short, sarcastic laugh.  “And you tied up the wound, I suppose?”

She glanced up, half displeased.  “We were both staying at the little inn,” she said, as though no further explanation could be needed.  Then again her manner changed.  She moved imperceptibly nearer and touched his right hand.  His left, which was farther away from her, was well in the shadow of the cushions.

“Jack,” she said, caressingly, “it isn’t to tell you this stupid old story that I’ve brought you here; it’s really to tell you a sort of sequel.”  She stroked his hand gently once or twice.  “As I say, I met this man and we—­we had an affair.  You understand?  Then we quarrelled—­quarrelled quite badly —­and I came away.  I’ve remembered him rather longer than I remember most people—­he was one of those dogged individuals who stick in one’s mind.  But he has stayed in mine for another reason—­” Again she looked up.  “He has stayed because you helped to keep him there.  You know how I have sometimes put my hands over your mouth and told you that your eyes reminded me of some one else?  Well, that some one else was my Englishman.  But you mustn’t be jealous; he was a horrid, obstinate person, and you—­well, you know what I think of you—­” She pressed his hand.  “But to come to the end of the story, I never saw this man since that long-ago time, until—­until the night of Blanche’s party !” She spoke slowly, to give full effect to her words; then she waited for his surprise.

But the result was not what she expected.  He said nothing; and, with an abrupt movement, he drew his hand from between hers.

“Aren’t you surprised?” she asked at last, with a delicate note of reproof.

He started slightly, as if recalled to the necessity of the moment.  “Surprised?” he said.  “Why should I be surprised?  One person more or less at a big party isn’t astonishing.  Besides, you expect a man to turn up sooner or later in his own country.  Why should I be surprised?”

She lay back luxuriously.  “Because, my dear boy,” she said, softly, “it’s a mystery!  It’s one of those fascinating mysteries that come once in a lifetime.”