But for him there was to be no more peace.
It was now about four o'clock and already the dusk was closing in about the town. He decided that he would go and see whether Rachel were in.
He was determined that he would ask Rachel nothing; if she wished to speak to him he would help her, but it must be of her own free will—that was the only way at present.
For how much was the Duchess's malignity responsible? What exactly did she know? What did she intend to do?
Oddly enough, for a long time past some subconscious part of him had linked Rachel and Breton together, perhaps because they were the two persons in all the world for whom he most cared, perhaps because he had always known in both of them that rebellious discontent so unlike that Beaminster acquiescence.
As he drove through the evening streets, he felt that never, until now, had he known how dearly he loved Rachel. In his mind there was no judgment of her, only a sense of her peril; if she would speak to him!...
When he asked at the door of the flat for Lady Seddon he was told that she was out.
"Sir Roderick is at home, sir." He would see Roddy.
Roddy was sitting in the little box-like room known as the smoking-room, poring over a war map. About the map little flags were dotted; he had two in his hand and, with one hand lifted, was hesitating as to their position.
"That was a damned bad mess——" Christopher heard him say as he came in.