"Done what?"
"Told him." She nodded toward the door. "He's just gone. Jane is out, and I had a chance to talk to him alone."
Lethbury pushed a chair forward and she sank into it.
"What did you tell him? That she is not always—"
Mrs. Lethbury lifted a tragic eye. "No; I told him that she always is—"
"Always is—?"
"Yes."
There was a pause. Lethbury made a call on his hoarded philosophy. He saw Jane suddenly reinstated in her evening seat by the library fire; but an answering chord in him thrilled at his wife's heroism.
"Well—what did he say?"
Mrs. Lethbury's agitation deepened. It was clear that the blow had fallen.