“Olwen’s father was old Malakite,” Wolf went on; “and Olwen’s mother was Christie Malakite’s sister.”

Miss Gault still kept her face removed from his steady gaze.

“Aren’t I right?” he repeated. “But you needn’t tell me. I know I am right.” He paused, and they continued to cross the field.

“What’s become of the mother?” he continued. “Is she still alive?”

Miss Gault did turn at this.

“Australia,” she whispered.

“Alive or dead?”

She almost shouted her reply to this, as if with a spasm of savage relief.