Only the steady ticking of the clock, the subdued crackling of the dying fire, and shadows everywhere! In the corners of the room, overhead on the ceiling, where the bright glare of the study lamp made an unsteady circle, on the faces of the man and woman—shadows everywhere, and, darkest of all, the shadow intangible, unseen, the shadow of horror, of guilt, of disgrace that hung over the whole splendid mansion!
"Are you going to see him to-night?"
It was Judith who spoke with sharp interrogation, and Marson lifted his head wearily as he said:
"Guinaud?"
"Yes."
"I must see him. He wrote to me that he had to speak upon a matter of importance, and I promised to grant him an interview."
"What time did he say he would be here?"
"Between seven and eight o'clock to-night."
With a simultaneous impulse they both looked at the clock. It was half-past seven.
"He will be here shortly," said Judith, looking at Mr. Marson.