Here was a new thought, a new understanding, a complete new turn to affairs.

Christie Maclaire, then, was not Willoughby's sister Hope.

The girl he rescued on the desert--the girl with the pleading brown eyes, and the soft blur of the South on her lips--was not the music hall singer.

He could hardly grasp the truth at first, it antagonized so sharply with all he had previously believed.

Yet, if this were true his own duty became clearer than ever; aye, and would be more willingly performed.