"And Monsieur Varbarriere gone away on business for some days—is not he?"
"Yes—quite uncertain—possibly for two, or perhaps three, he said," answered Guy.
"And he's very—he knows—he knows a great deal—I forget what I was going to say—I'm half asleep to-day—no sleep—a very bad night."
And old Lady Alice yawned drearily into the fire.
"Beatrix said she'd look in; but everyone forgets—you young people are so selfish."
"Mademoiselle Marlowe was at the door as I came in, and said she would go on instead to the garden first, and gather some flowers for you."
"Oh! h'm!—very good—well, I can't talk to-day; suppose you choose a book, Mr. Strangways, and read a few pages—that is, if you are quite at leisure?"
"Perfectly—that is, for an hour—unfortunately I have then an appointment. What kind of book shall I take?" he asked, approaching one of the two tall bookstands that flanked an oval mirror opposite the fireplace.
"Anything, provided it is old."
Nearly half an hour passed in discussing what to read—the old lady not being in the mood that day to pursue the verse readings which had employed Guy Strangways hitherto.