He glanced furtively from right to left. Not a soul was in sight. Then he took her in his arms and pressed her close, and the kiss was that of the night over again. If anything it was warmer.
The sub-editor left Madeira by the next calling steamer, liberally remunerated for his services.
Relieved of his presence, the Carleighs and Mrs. Veynol stayed on. They stayed for another fortnight. Then they traveled to Nice, arriving a little in advance of the season.
No one of them, however, was quite happy. The serpent had entered paradise, and its sweetest fruits had turned acrid.
In these days Sir Caryll talked more with his mother-in-law than he did with his wife. Her experience was wider, and she had more imagination.
Occasionally there were revelations that were like sudden drops into icy waters. For instance, one day when they had gone to Monte Carlo together, leaving Rosamond at Nice with a headache or some other ill, she surprised him by saying:
"It's odd Nina Darling never told you of us."
"You mean she knew?" he asked in astonishment.
"I'm not sure. We've never met—since. But we were great friends five years ago in Simla."
"It isn't possible she knows?" said Carleigh.