J, beside him now in the taxi, showed the ravages of those nine lost months. His hair was grayer and skimpier, the lines around his eyes and mouth deeper. On first meeting, when Blade was free to leave the Tower, J had shaken his hand and said, «We thought we had lost you, old boy.» Just that. But there had been tears in the old man's eyes.

The taxi had not moved for some minutes. Blade stared at the newsboy across Lothbury Street. He could read the headline on the placard.

DIANA HAS A BOY

By this time J was aware of the coincidence. He nudged Blade. «Do you remember? We were caught in nearly this same spot-the day we went to the Tower and were so frightfully late. You bought a paper?»

Blade nodded. «I recall. Diana and Sir David Throckmorton-Pell. The hanging judge. The one they call The Rope. She had just run away from him.»

J smiled. «Yes. Not the first time, either. But she came back and they have just had a child. I doubt she will be running away again-not with a child to rear.»

Blade knew then. Sea green eyes, so cold at first and then so warm. Black pants with no lace. 'A Dorset beach and the- long swim out and the game they played and at last the coupling in the depths and the going away, the departures with no goodbyes.

Hercules and Diana. A sea game played once only.

J was saying, «Some of the nastier papers are hinting that Sir David is not the father. Short of libel, of course. But Tony Asquith, in the Mirror, is defending her tooth and nail. Of course everyone knows that Tony is mad for her. One or two of the really sleazy columnists have hinted that Tony himself is the father.»

«No,» said Blade absently.

J stared. «What?»

«I mean,» said Blade, «that I doubt that a fop such as this Asquith seems to be could be the father. Why don't the bastards leave the poor girl alone! And old Sir David, for that matter. This could make all the difference in their lives-they may have a chance now.»

He knew. Just as she would know, no matter how many men she had been with. And that was the end of it. He could never seek her out, nor she him. He felt no real sadness. He had come back from hell to find a bit of immortality bestowed on him. Who could quarrel with that?

The taxi moved on. J watched Blade carefully. Odd, but never before had he noticed that Blade, upon occasion, could look smug.