He led the way into the hall, and across it to the front door. A pale grey Homburg lay on the gate-leg table, beside a pair of wash-leather gloves. Hannasyde's eyes rested on it for a moment, but he made no comment, merely picking up his own hat from the chair whereon he had laid it.
Having seen him off the premises, North returned unhurriedly to the morning-room, entering it in time to hear his sister-in-law say trenchantly: "You must be suffering from mental paralysis! You can't possibly hope to keep it from -'
She saw who was coming into the room, and snapped the sentence off in mid-air. North closed the door, tossed the newspaper he was still carrying on to the table, and said suavely: "What can't she possibly hope to keep from me?"
"Did I say from you?" demanded Sally.
"It was sufficiently obvious." He began methodically to fill a pipe. An uncomfortable silence fell. Helen was sitting with her gaze fixed on North's face, and her hands tightly clasped in her lap. As he restored his pouch to his pocket he raised his eyes, and for a moment looked steadily into hers. "Well? Isn't it so?"
She evaded the question. "What brought you home so unexpectedly, John?"
"Does that really interest you?" he inquired.
She said in a low, unsteady voice: "You came back to spy on me!"
A hard look came into his face. He said nothing, however, but felt in his pocket for matches, and began to light his pipe.
A less intense note was introduced by Miss Drew, who said brightly: "Would you by any chance like me to withdraw tactfully? I should hate to think I was cramping either of your styles."