Capper's hand patted her shoulder again, paternally, admonishingly. "Guess he could spare you for to-night," he said. "Pack your grip and come home! Jake will be pleased to see you, sure."
She shivered. "It isn't home to me," she said.
"What?" said Capper. "Not your husband's house?"
The hot colour rushed up over her face. She turned from him. "Come and see Bunny!" she said.
A few minutes later she stood alone in the music-room, gazing forth from the western window with eyes that seemed to search the horizon for help.
Capper was occupied with Bunny. The nurse had returned, and she was not needed. The certainty of this was upon her, a dead weight pressing her down. Bunny's need of her was past forever. Duty, stark and implacable, was all that remained in life.
Ah! A step behind her! She turned swiftly. "Charlie!"
He came to her, a smile on his swarthy face, a gleam of wickedness in his eyes. He took the hands that almost involuntarily she stretched to him. "You summoned me!" he said.
Something in his look warned her of danger. His clasp was electric in its tenseness.
She stood a moment before replying; then: "I didn't so much as know you were in the house," she said.