"You don't honestly think——" began Miss Mayne, her colour once more supplanting her smile. "Oh, couldn't you tell them—run out and say I—we——"
Graeme hastened after the visitors with belated promptings of conscience and the laws of hospitality, but before he reached the hall the splutter of gravel and the hum of the engine told the listeners in the dining-room he was too late.
"He's waving good-bye," said Alicia, as the car swerved and rocked down the avenue, looking back and brandishing her gloves.
"Let him!" snapped Josephine, opening the throttle. "Some men are the limit. Fancy all those children. Disgusting, I call it. Why, the eldest was fourteen, if she was a day."
"She looked idiotically young," said Alicia.
"Probably their step-mother. Didn't she look daggers when we walked in! I suppose she is his wife?"
"'Course she is; didn't you see her wedding ring? I spotted it when that kid upset his cup and she started mopping up the mess. 'Course she's his wife."
"H'm," was the comment of the sporting Alicia.
5
Graeme Jakes accompanied his guests as far as the gateway to Glebe Farm when finally they departed. The sun was dipping behind the hills and rabbits were showing themselves along the lane; it was a golden evening of incredible peacefulness, but in Graeme's mind a shadow of remorse lingered.