And Manisty had left Eleanor's side to approach Miss Foster.

All trace of abstraction was gone.

He looked ill at ease, and yet excited; his eyes were fixed upon the girl.

He stooped towards her, speaking in a low voice.
'There's something up'-- thought Brooklyn.

'And if that girl's any hand in it she ought to be cut! I thought she was a nice girl.' His blue eyes stared fiercely at the little scene.