After a glance at me Dawling jerked round. "Then you do believe that she may be?"
I hesitated. "The thing would be to make her believe it. She only needs a good scare."
"But if that fellow is shocked at the precautions she does take?"
"Oh, who knows?" I rejoined with small sincerity. "I don't suppose Iffield is absolutely a brute."
"I would take her with leather blinders, like a shying mare!" cried Geoffrey Dawling.
I had an impression that Iffield wouldn't, but I didn't communicate it, for I wanted to pacify my friend, whom I had discomposed too much for the purposes of my sitting. I recollect that I did some good work that morning, but it also comes back to me that before we separated he had practically revealed to me that my anecdote, connecting itself in his mind with a series of observations at the time unconscious and unregistered, had covered with light the subject of our colloquy. He had had a formless perception of some secret that drove Miss Saunt to subterfuges, and the more he thought of it the more he guessed this secret to be the practice of making believe she saw when she didn't and of cleverly keeping
