But such talks always came
to nothing. Every stone had already been turned, and the dry dust of the
highway afforded little knowledge to Merriton.
Across the clear sky of his happiness a cloud had gloomed, spoiling for
a time the perfection of it. He could not think of marriage while the
mystery of Dacre Wynne's death remained unsolved. It seemed unthinkable.
Tony West told him he was getting morbid about it, and to have a change.
"Come up to London and see some of your friends," was West's advice. But
Merriton never took it.
'Toinette seemed the only person who understood how he felt, and the
knowledge of this only served to draw them closer together. She, too,
felt that marriage was for the time being unthinkable, and despite
Brellier's constant urging in that direction, she held her ground firmly,
telling him that they preferred to wait awhile.
"I'm going to solve the blessed thing, 'Toinette," Nigel told her over
and over again during these long weeks and days that followed, "if I grow
gray-headed in the attempt.
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