[CHAPTER V.]
Xenie remained alone in her chamber until darkness gathered like a pall over every luxurious object about her. Her maid came and tapped at the door once, but she sent her away, saying that her head ached and she did not wish to be disturbed.
It was quite true, for her heavy fall upon the floor had hurt her severely; so she remained quietly lying on a sofa until black darkness hid everything from her confused sight.
Then there came a light tap upon the door again. She thought it was the maid to light the gas.
"You may go away, Finette, I do not need you yet," she said, feeling that the darkness suited her mood the best.
"It is I, Xenie. Open the door. I wish to speak to you," said her husband's voice.
She went to the door, unlocked and threw it wide open. The light from the hall streamed in upon her pale and haggard face, her dress in disorder, her dark hair loose and dishevelled.
"It is dark in there, I cannot see you, my darling," he said; "come across into my smoking-room in the light. I want to tell you something."
He took her hand and drew her across the hall into a luxurious apartment he called his smoking-room.
It was elegantly furnished with cushioned easy-chairs and lounges, while the floor was covered with a soft, Persian carpet and beautiful rugs.