“I will not go, I will not! Oh, Gordon, you can’t turn me out after all we’ve been to one another! After all the confidences!”
He was pushing her toward the courtyard door, a man beside himself, frenzied with fear, terrified beyond hope of succour.
“Out of the side door!” he hissed. “I will meet you in half an hour, at a teashop somewhere. Heloise, don’t you realise my reputation depends——”
It needed but this to pull the mask from her face.
“Teashop! I am to be thrown to the lions!”
He looked hard at her. Could a woman pun in such a solemn moment?
“As to your reputation,” she drawled coolly, “that sort of thing doesn’t make me get out of bed and walk round, I assure you! I will not leave this house—alone!”
Gordon covered his mouth with his hand. He was in no danger of talking. He wanted to cover her mouth with his hand, but she was too far away. It was an involuntary gesture which silenced her. She heard the knock at the door, and then Diana’s voice:
“Who is there?”
He pointed to the side door, grimacing. Heloise was adamant.