"Yes, alone."
Speed blushed furiously and was silent. A sudden new feeling, which he diagnosed as jealousy, swept across him; followed by a further series of feelings which were no more than various forms of annoyance and exacerbation. He clenched his fists and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.
"How do you know all this?" he queried, in the staccato bark that was so accurate a register of his temper.
"Smallwood isn't the fellow to keep such an affair secret," replied Clanwell. "But don't, Speed, go and do anything rash. If I were you I should go back and—"
"I shan't do anything rash," interrupted Speed, curtly. "You needn't worry. Good-night.... I suppose I ought to thank you for your kindness in telling me what you have."
When he had gone he regretted that final remark. It was, he decided, uselessly and pointlessly cynical.
II
It was a pity, perhaps, that in his present mood he went straight back to Lavery's and to Helen. He found her sitting, as usual, by the fire when he entered; he made no remark, but came and sat opposite to her. Neither of them spoke for a few moments. That was not unusual for them, for Helen had frequent fits of taciturnity, and Speed, becoming familiar with them, found himself adopting similar habits. After, however, a short space of silence, he broke it by saying: "Helen, do you mind if we have a serious talk for a little while."
She looked up and said, quietly: "Where have you been?"
"Clanwell's," he replied, and as soon as he had done so he realised that she would easily guess who had informed him. A pity that he had answered her so readily.