She repeats in a loud, emphatic voice:
"Edgar!"
He raises his head in surprise. He looks at her.
"Well?—Are you ill, Helen?"
Her peculiar expression has arrested his attention, and he lays down his pen. Her face is flushed. Her eyes are strangely brilliant. Her long, nervous fingers twist in the cords of her wrap. She leaves her position at the door, and advancing into the room, throws herself into a chair. She replies in a hard voice:
"Ill? No, oh no!"
Braine looks at her inquiringly. She is looking straight into his face. He says presently, with eagerness:
"Oh, you have something to tell me about Everet?"
"I have nothing to tell you about Everet," in the same inscrutable tone.
Braine looks annoyed, and says a little quickly: