There was a dead silence for several seconds. Then Katharine suddenly pushed Ralston gently toward the door.
“Go, Jack dear,” she said in a low voice. “She has a dreadful headache—she’s not herself. Your being here irritates her—please go away—it will be all right in a day or two—”
They had reached the door, for Ralston saw that she was right.
“No,” said Mrs. Lauderdale from the fireplace, “I shan’t change my mind.”
It was all so sudden and strange that Ralston found himself outside the library without having taken leave of her in any way. Katharine came out with him.
“There’s a difficulty,” he whispered quickly as he found his coat and stick. “After it’s done there has to be a certificate saying that—”
“Katharine! Come here!” cried Mrs. Lauderdale from within, and they heard her footstep as she left the fireplace.
“Come to-morrow morning at eleven,” whispered Katharine.
She barely touched his hand with hers and fled back into the library. He let himself out and walked slowly along Clinton Place in the direction of Fifth Avenue.