"Nothing."
"And can you give me no idea of what it means?" His voice was tense, so much so that it had the unfortunate effect of making his words sound severe.
Margaret stared at the paper, feeling the earth sway beneath her feet.
"No—unless—perhaps I ought to tell you that—we quarreled last night—a bitter quarrel—"
"Quarreled? About what?" He spoke sharply.
She lifted her head at that and looked full at him.
"About something that concerns only ourselves, I think."
"I beg your pardon. You are quite right. I did not mean to intrude, but only to find out if I could the meaning of this incomprehensible thing. I beg you to believe that I would like to serve you."
"Of course this will be known," she said, hesitatingly. "If—if it could be kept out of the papers I should be glad. It would only avert publicity for a little while—but—I might be stronger then to bear it."
"I will see to it at once. The papers will say, if you desire, that he has been called away on urgent business."