At last the unmistakable sound of whispering voices in the passage got the better of his sense of courtesy as a guest, and he rose from his seat, and slightly opened the door.

As he did so the figures of a man and woman, conversing in earnest whispers, passed the opening.

The man's arm was round the woman's waist; the woman was--as he had suspected--the one who had stood in the doorway, the Signora--but--the man was NOT Rushbrook.

Mr.Leyton drew back this time in unaffected horror.

It was none other than Jack Somers! Some warning instinct must at that moment have struck the woman, for with a stifled cry she disengaged herself from Somers's arm, and dashed rapidly down the hall.