Mrs. Rickett hastened away, and Juliet lighted her candle and surveyed herself for a second, standing motionless before the glass.
Several minutes later she descended the stairs and went quietly into the dining-room. She was wearing a large-brimmed hat that shadowed her face.
Dick, standing by the mantelpiece, waiting for her, gave her a hard and piercing look as she entered.
"I am sorry I am late," she said.
He moved abruptly as if somehow the conventional words had an edge. He drew out a chair for her. "I am afraid there isn't a great deal of time," he said.
She sat down with a murmured word of thanks. He took his place, facing her, very pale, but absolutely his own master. He served her silently, and she made some pretence of eating, keeping her head bent, feeding Columbus surreptitiously as he sat by her side.
Her plate was empty when at length very resolutely she looked up and spoke. "Dick, I want you to understand one thing. I did not open that parcel of yours. It was open when it came."
Instantly his eyes were upon her with merciless directness. "I gathered that," he said.
She met his look unflinchingly, but her next words came with an effort.
"Then you can't—with justice—blame me for surprising your secret."
"I don't," he said.