He leant his elbows on the table, bearing his eyes direct upon hers. The slight catch in her voice was breaking almost on a note of hysteria.
"You're excited, you know," he said gently. "You know, you're imagining things. You've got no grounds for them—I assure you you've got no grounds. Come to the music hall with me and forget all about it."
She shook her head.
"I couldn't," she replied; "I couldn't. I—I shan't do anything foolish, but I think I'll go now—now—if you've finished."
"Yes, I've quite finished. But I'm going to say something first."
"What?"
"Don't let your imagination run riot with you; and if I can do anything for you—there's nothing to be done, I mean—but if I can, you let me know. Will you?"
She nodded her head vaguely. It meant nothing to her; but she nodded her head.
CHAPTER VIII
Mrs. Durlacher had asked one of her guests to come early.