The shiny brown spaniel took up a strategic position three yards away and growled, his chin between his paws.

But the more Miss Winwood looked, and her blue eyes were trained to penetrate, the more was she convinced that both she and the dog were wrong in their diagnosis.

The young man's face was deadly white, his cheeks gaunt.

It was evidently a grave matter.

For a moment or so she had a qualm of fear lest he might be dead.