Harvey, with no thought of accepting this invitation, cast stern glances at the speaker and at his wife.
'What does all this mean, Mrs. Carnaby?'
'Your old friend will tell you.'
The door had opened, and Hugh Carnaby slouched in. At the sight of Alma he stood still. Then meeting Harvey's eyes, he exclaimed, with hoarse indistinctness, 'Rolfe!' Each advanced, and their hands clasped.
'Rolfe!—old fellow!—I'm the most miserable devil on earth.'
Tears were in his eyes and in his voice. He held Harvey's hand tight prisoned in both his own, and stood tottering like a feeble old man. 'Old friend, I can't help myself—don't feel hard against me—I have to tell you something.'
He looked towards Alma, who was motionless. Sibyl had sat down, and watched as at a play, but with no smile.
'Come into the next room with me,' added the choking voice.
'No. Here, if you please, Hugh,' sounded with gentle firmness.
'Sibyl—then tell it. I can't.'