cautious in my behaviour than I meant to be.

I could not conceal from myself that the talk I had had with the fellow at the Wayfarers' had somewhat discouraged me as to the ultimate success of my efforts to expose him, and as days went on I found it impossible entirely to shake off the impression made by his words.

His personality was disagreeably magnetic to me. I had to acknowledge its power, and in spite of myself there were moments when I felt daunted by his defiance.

Had he not been very sure of himself he would not have dared to say what he had said. I believed, as firmly as ever, that there was a 118 black spot in his past, upon which I could put my finger if only I could place him in my mental gallery of photographs, in which his portrait had been so mysteriously blurred or changed. But he and Karine Cunningham would in all probability be man and wife at the end of six weeks; and six weeks was, after all, but a short space in which to tear the mask from so preternaturally clever a scoundrel.

118

I thought then (and even yet, I trust) that my resolution to save Karine from this man, if I were able to do so, was not all selfishness.

Knowing nothing, yet suspecting much with haunting vagueness, it seemed a horrible desecration to me that the beautiful, gentle girl should be given up to Wildred. I had little enough hope for myself with her, whatever might betide, for even had it been possible, under happier circumstances, that she could have learned to care for me, she and her friends would be sure to misunderstand and condemn my motives in working against the man she had promised to marry.

Should I have the good fortune to show him 119 to her and those in authority over her, as the villain I believed him to be, I could not imagine myself ever attempting to take selfish advantage of his downfall.

119

What I might do, or try to do, I told myself, must be without any hope of future reward.

I had persuaded myself that the oftener I could see Karine, and impress upon her the strength and disinterestedness of my friendship, silently assuring her of my unforgotten resolve to help, the better it would be for her. She had said once that she had "many acquaintances but no friends," and she had seemed glad to welcome my friendship; so that now I wanted her to see I did not mean to fail her–that, after all, it might not be as 

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