"Duty?" she cried; "what about duty?"
"You and Miss Harbottle were such generous ladies. I well remember how
grateful I was: you always paid me above the tariff fare----"
Then she realized that he had forgotten everything; forgotten her,
forgotten what had happened, even forgotten what he was like when he
was young.
"Stop being polite," she said coldly. "You were not polite when I saw
you last."
"I am very sorry," he exclaimed, suddenly alarmed.
"Turn round. Look at the mountains."
"Yes, yes." His fishy eyes blinked nervously. He fiddled with his watch
chain which lay in a furrow of his waistcoat. He ran away to warn some
poorly dressed children off the view-terrace. When he returned she
still insisted.
"I must tell you," she said, in calm, business-like tones. "Look at
that great mountain, round which the road goes south. Look half-way up,
on its eastern side--where the flowers are. It was there that you once
gave yourself away."
He gaped at her in horror. He remembered. He was inexpressibly shocked.
It was at that moment that Colonel Leyland returned.