‘See if I don’t. To-night! It must be to-night! Shall I call you a pretty name? it’s only because I couldn’t bear to be found out before you tell him.’
He still stroked his moustache. His handsome face was half amused, half troubled. At last he said:
‘Very well; to-night.’
Shortly after, Mutimer came into the room.
‘Adela isn’t up to the mark,’ he said to Alice. ‘She’d better have dinner by herself, I think; but she’ll join us afterwards.’
Brother and sister exchanged looks.
‘Oh, it’s only a headache or something of the kind,’ he continued. ‘It’ll be all right soon.’
And he began to talk with Rodman cheerfully, so that Alice felt it must really be all right. She drew aside and looked into a novel.
Adela did appear after dinner, very pale and silent, but with a smile on her face. There had been no further conversation between her and her husband. She talked a little with ‘Arry, in her usual gentle way, then asked to be allowed to say goodnight. ‘Arry at the same time took his leave, having been privately bidden to do so by his sister. He was glad enough to get away; in the drawing-room his limbs soon began to ache, from inability to sit at his ease.
Then Alice withdrew, and the men were left alone.