Another woman would have fainted: there had never been any mercy for her: but at least she would not sit there while Bertie talked of it.

So she lifted up her face, her stony face, and turned the current of his talk.

. . . .

Dinner came to an end at last and the automatic woman passed across to the sitting-room.

Her husband followed her; she stared at him.

“You must take my excuses to Blanche. It is due to my family that I should not appear to-night in public.”

“Certainly, certainly; a mark of respect, Blanche will understand. We will neither of us go.

She looked at him in horror, all her force of will gathered to a point: “Go—go! Blanche will expect it. There is no reason for you to stop here.”

“My dear girl, do you think I can’t stand an evening alone with you? It will be a change, quite a pleasant change.”

. . . .