It's true, Ottoline and I have had a bad fall out. [Keenly.] Did Filson give you any particulars——?
Sir Timothy.
I gathered 'twas something arising out of a book of yours——
Philip.
Y-y-yes; a silly affair in which I was utterly in the wrong. I lost my accursed temper—made a disgraceful exhibition of myself. [Touching Sir Timothy's arm.] I will be quite straight with you, Barradell—Robbie Roope has just gone to her with a note from me. I don't want to pain you; but Robbie and I hope that, after a night's rest—[The bell rings in the vestibule.] Excuse me—my servant isn't in. [He goes into the vestibule, leaving the door open. Sir Timothy picks up his hat. On opening the outer door, Philip confronts Ottoline.] Otto——!
Ottoline.
[In the doorway, giving him both her hands.] Are you alone, Philip?
Philip.
[Drawing her into the vestibule, his eyes sparkling.] No. [With a motion of his head.] Sir Timothy Barradell——
[Ottoline passes Philip and enters the room, holding out her hand to Sir Timothy. Her eyes are black-rimmed from sleeplessness; but whatever asperity she has displayed overnight has disappeared, and she is again full of softness and charm.