He stopped with his hand on the porcelain knob, breaking off his ditty in the middle of a bar.
"By all means, if you like," he said, "though I should prefer to see you, you know."
Then he dropped luxuriously into an easy-chair by the side of the fire, which continued to exhibit a comfortable, glowing redness.
But very soon Lightmark became aware of a certain weight of apprehension, which took from him the power to enjoy these material comforts; unattractive possibilities seemed to hover in the silent darkness, and his more subtile senses were roused, and brought to a state of quivering tension, which was almost insupportable. His wife moved, and he felt that she had directed her eyes towards him, though he could not see her; and he winced instinctively, seeking to be first to break the silence, but unable to find a timely word to say. The blow fell, and even while she spoke he felt a quick admiration for the instinct which had enabled him to anticipate her thought.
"Dick," she said quietly, without moving from her place by the window, "have you seen him since——?"
There was no need of names; he did not even notice the omission.
Could she see his face, he wondered, in the firelight?
"No!" he sighed, "no!"
She came nearer to him, so near that he could hear her breathing, the touch of her fingers upon the back of a chair; and presently she spoke again:
"You think there was no excuse for him?"
"Ah—for excuse! She was pretty, you know!"