"Isn't it tiresome," she exclaimed, taking a chair, "now she absolutely refuses to see you!"
"It's not surprising," observed Lord Henry, sitting down beside her.
"Yes, but she must see you; I insist," Mrs. Delarayne pursued.
"Her indisposition," muttered Lord Henry, "is probably a salutary refuge. She imagines that she alone knows the cause of it, and that it would therefore be utterly futile to be examined and worried by people who cannot possibly trace it to its origin. She knows, moreover, that even if it is traced to its origin, the discovery can only prove humiliating to her pride."
"Yes, but——"
"We must manœuvre."
The widow did not understand.
"I mean, if you and Agatha will only disappear, I'll walk into the room and prevail upon her to make friends. That is to say," he added, "provided she doesn't escape meanwhile."
Mrs. Delarayne fingered her necklace pensively, and jerked her head forward once or twice in solemn silence.
"That's the only thing, I'm afraid," said Lord Henry.