"At this hour," he grimly responded, "you will be able to dispense with my society no doubt."
His tone silenced her. Yet, as he turned to go, she looked after him with mute questioning in her eyes. She had a feeling that he was keeping something from her, and—perhaps it was merely the natural result of womanly curiosity baffled—she was vaguely hurt that he did not see fit to tell her whither his business was taking him.
A few words would have sufficed; but he had not chosen to utter them, and her pride was sufficient to suppress any display of interest in his affairs. She would not court the snub that she felt convinced he would not hesitate to administer.
So he left her without explanation, and Nina went drearily to bed. On the following morning, however, the sun shone upon her, and she went downstairs in better spirits.
The first person she encountered was her husband. He was sauntering about the morning-room in his overcoat, a cup of strong tea in his hand.
He greeted her perfunctorily, as his fashion was.
"Oh, good-morning!" he said. "I have only just got back. I was detained unavoidably. I am going upstairs for an hour's rest, and then I shall be off to the City. I don't know if you would care to drive in with me. I shall use the car, but it will then be at your service for the rest of the day."
"Have you been working all night?" Nina asked incredulously.
He nodded.
"It was unavoidable," he said again, with a touch of impatience. "You had better have a second brew of tea, this is too strong for you."