“What reason have I to—”
“Never mind the reasons. Are you?”
“No,” said she, steadfastly.
He smiled indulgently; pressed her hand for a moment against his cheek; and went out for the short walk he was accustomed to take before retiring.
CHAPTER XV
In October Marian was at Sark, holiday making at the house of Hardy McQuinch’s brother, who had recently returned to England with a fortune made in Australia. Conolly, having the house at Holland Park to himself, fitted a spare room as a laboratory, and worked there every night. One evening, returning home alone a little before five o’clock, he shut himself into this laboratory, and had just set to work when Armande, the housemaid, interrupted him.
“Mrs. Leith Fairfax, sir.”
Conolly had had little intercourse with Mrs. Fairfax since before his marriage, when he had once shewn her the working of his invention at Queen Victoria Street; and as Marian had since resented her share of Douglas’s second proposal by avoiding her society as far as possible without actually discontinuing her acquaintance, this visit was a surprise. Conolly looked darkly at Armande, and went to the drawing-room without a word.
“How do you do, Mr. Conolly?” said Mrs. Fairfax, as he entered. “I need not ask: you are looking so well. Have I disturbed you?”
“You have—most agreeably. Pray sit down.”