"I am innocent, f have stolen nothing. Brendon,” he said, “may I rob you of your guest just for the drive home? I have only a few hours in England, and Miss Pellissier is an old friend. The little pucker in her brows became more perceptible. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in. His glasses were gone. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. “She has never 96 once contacted me.
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