"And Nance was decorating the room for the sacrifice?" He idly gathered the stalks and leaves of the heliotrope into a little heap.
The action was purely mechanical, purely inadvertent. But as he drew the broken stems together, a small object, hitherto hidden under the scattered leaves, was suddenly brought to light.
It was very trivial, very uninteresting—merely a man's visiting-card. Without consideration he picked it up and looked at it. Then, with an extremely quiet gesture, he laid it down again.
It bore the name of the Earl of Deerehurst; and across it Clodagh's name and address had been scribbled in pencil.
"So you owe the decorations to Deerehurst?" he said in a low voice.
There was a short silence. Then suddenly he rose and stepped to Clodagh's side.
"Dear, forgive me!" he said.
At the unexpected words, Clodagh's heart swelled. With a sudden impulse she caught the hand he had laid upon her shoulder and pressed it against her face.
"No, Walter!" she said. "Say all that was in your mind! Be angry, if you like!"
For answer, Gore seated himself beside her on the window-sill.