Philip shook the hand off, and savagely projecting his chin, said:
“I have a good deal to explain, and if you will sit down quietly and listen, then after you have heard, I think you will see the necessity of an apology.”
Colonel Lane sat down rigidly, and Philip slowly and wearily took the chair that Uncle Robert pushed towards him.
“Phyllis is on her way to Bombay to join her husband,” he said slowly.
A hissing breath came from the Colonel’s throat. He closed his mouth with a snap. His eyes stared. Philip went on:
“Phyllis was married to Captain Arbuthnot before he went out to India. They were married at St. Clement’s Church. You can see it for yourself in the register. She told me of it almost at once, after obtaining my promise to keep the communication secret. She came to me to get letters from her husband, which were sent under cover to me, and to talk of her various difficulties.
“Well, after that rather unpleasant half-hour at the bungalow, I thought the best thing was to get Phyllis off to her husband, who has come into money. She has gone with Captain and Mrs. Hurst—whom you know by name at least. Now what have you to say?”
The room was going round with Colonel Lane. A great buzzing was in his ears. He clutched at his collar.
Uncle Robert came and loosened it and gave him some brandy.
Philip, apathetic and played-out, toyed with a wine-glass as if unconscious of what was going on.