"Please don't you talk to me!" His daughter fiercely whispered. "I can't stand any more to-night!"
"I won't," he answered. "It's too late." Again there was a pause.
"What time is it?" she asked him. But he did not answer.
"Well, Laura," he said presently, "your sister has told me everything. She has seen your husband—it's all arranged—and you're to stay here till it's over ... You want to stay here, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Then it's settled," he went on. "There's only one thing—the other man. I don't know who he is and I don't want to know. And I don't want you to know him again. You're not to see him. Understand?" For a moment Laura was silent.
"I'm going to marry him, father," she said. And standing in the darkened room Roger stiffened sharply.
"Well," he answered, after a pause, "that's your affair. You're no longer a child. I wish you were," he added.
Suddenly in the darkness Laura's hand came out clutching for his. But he had already turned to the door.
"Good-night," he said, and left her.