His eyes blazed redly. His disfigured face was suddenly devilish. "You are mad if you go back," he said.
But she shook her head again. "No, I know what I am doing. And I am going back now. But I will come to Baronmead in the morning."
He looked at her. "Are you—tired of life?" he asked abruptly.
She smiled—a piteous smile. "Very, very tired!" she said. "But you needn't be afraid of that. He will not touch me. He will not even see me to-night." Then, as he still looked combative, "Oh, please, leave this matter to my judgment! I know exactly what I am doing. Believe me, I am in no danger."
He gave in, seeing that she was not to be moved from her purpose.
They went a few yards farther; then, "In Heaven's name—come early to
Baronmead," he said jerkily. "I shall have no peace till you come."
"I will," she promised.
The chauffeur came to meet them with clumsy solicitude as they neared the car, but Nap kept him at a distance.
"Don't touch me! I've had a bad fall skiing. It's torn me to ribbons. Just open the door. Lady Carfax will do the rest!" And as the man turned to obey, "Not a very likely story, but it will serve our turn."
"Thank you," she said very earnestly.