She did not contradict him. She did not even answer him. She was sobbing as in passionate despair.
And it was that moment which Fisher chose for poking his head into the smoking-room in search of Charlie, whom he expected to find dozing over the fire, ignorant of the fact that it was close upon dinner-time.
Charlie leapt round at the opening of the door, but Fisher had taken stock of the situation. He entered with that in his face which the boy had never seen there before—a look that it was impossible to ignore.
Charlie met Fisher half-way across the room.
"Come into the billiard-room!" he said hurriedly.
He seized Fisher's arms with muscular fingers.
"Not here," he whispered urgently. "She is tired—upset. There is nothing really the matter."
But Fisher resisted the impulsive grip.
"I will talk to you presently," he said. "You clear out!"
He pushed past Charlie and went straight to the girl. His jaw was set with a determination that would have astonished most of his friends.