"No, the bell is not broken," said Harding.
She looked at him questioningly.
"The general has issued an order that nothing is to be done in this apartment, and nothing served, unless he personally authorizes it."
Mildred paled, drew herself up in what seemed a gesture of haughtiness but was an effort to muster her strength. To save herself from the humiliation of a breakdown before him, she hastily retreated by the way she had come. After perhaps a quarter of an hour she reappeared in the salon; she was now dressed for the street. Harding looked up from his writing, rose and bowed gravely. Said she:
"I am going out for a walk. I'll be back in an hour or so."
"One moment," said Harding, halting her as she was opening the door into the public hall. "The general has issued an order that if you go out, you are not to be allowed to return."
Her hand fell from the knob. With flashing eyes she cried, "But that is impossible!"
"It is his orders," said Harding, in his usual quiet manner. "And as he pays the bills he will be obeyed."
She debated. Against her will, her trembling hand sought the knob again. Against her will, her weak arm began to draw the door open. Harding came toward her, stood before her and looked directly into her eyes. His eyes had dread and entreaty in them, but his voice was as always when he said:
"You know him, Mrs. Siddall."