"I must write to you—under cover to some one—permit me—oh, permit me?"
"I cannot—I cannot," she replied, with a torrent of tears.
"I must—pardon my importunity, darling."
"Go—go, I entreat you—good-bye—farewell."
She was about to shut the French sash, when a voice startled her, by exclaiming,—
"Oh, my God—what is this I see?" and as Sybil started back, Audley found himself confronted by Constance, in her dressing-gown, for she had entered the room, candle in hand, having been roused by the sound of their voices at the open window.
This dénouement, so unexpected, was very awkward, and liable to the most serious misconstruction; so Audley's doctrine of chances proved a failure here.
CHAPTER XXV.
MISCONCEPTION.
Little could Sybil or Audley have foreseen how fatal was to be the ultimate termination of this night's adventure.