Hugh nodded. He wondered how soon he could make a pretext for getting up and leaving the room.
There was a faint silken rustle, and Lady Newhaven, pale, breathless, came swiftly in and closed the door. The instant afterwards she saw her husband, and shrank back with a little cry. Lord Newhaven did not look at her. His eyes were fixed on Hugh.
Hugh's face became suddenly ugly, livid. He rose slowly to his feet, and stood motionless.
"He hates her," said Lord Newhaven to himself. And he removed his glance and came forward.
"You were looking for me, Violet?" he remarked. "I have no doubt you are wishing to return home. We will go at once." He threw away his cigarette. "Well, good-bye, Scarlett, in case we don't meet again. I dare say you will pay Westhope a visit later on. Ah, Captain Pratt! so you have fled, like us, from the madding crowd. I can recommend Loftus's cigarettes. I have just had one myself. Good-bye. Did you leave your purchases in the hall, Violet? Yes? Then we will collect them on our way."
The husband and wife were half-way down the grand staircase before Lord Newhaven said, in his usual even voice:
"I must ask you once more to remember that I will not have any scandal attaching to your name. Did not you see that that white mongrel Pratt was on your track? If I had not been there when he came in he would have drawn his own vile conclusions, and for once they would have been correct."
"He could not think worse of me than you do," said the wife, half cowed, half defiant.
"No, but he could say so, which I don't; or, what is more probable, he could use his knowledge to obtain a hold over you. He is a dangerous man. Don't put yourself in his power."
"I don't want to, or in anybody's."