And with a slight but imperious gesture, Lady Henry motioned towards the door. Jacob hesitated, then quietly took his departure. He threw Julie a look of anxious appeal as he went out. But she did not see it; her troubled gaze was fixed on Lady Henry.
That lady eyed her companion with composure, though by now even the old lips were wholly blanched.
"There is really no need for any conversation between us, Miss Le Breton," said the familiar voice. "But if there were, I am not to-night, as you see, in a condition to say it. So--when you came up to say good-night to me--you had determined on this adventure? You had been good enough, I see, to rearrange my room--to give my servants your orders."
Julie stood stonily erect. She made her dry lips answer as best they could.
"We meant no harm," she said, coldly. "It all came about very simply. A few people came in to inquire after you. I regret they should have stayed talking so long."
Lady Henry smiled in contempt.
"You hardly show your usual ability by these remarks. The room you stand in"--she glanced significantly at the lights and the chairs--"gives you the lie. You had planned it all with Hutton, who has become your tool, before you came to me. Don't contradict. It distresses me to hear you. Well, now we part."
"Of course. Perhaps to-morrow you will allow me a few last words?"
"I think not. This will cost me dear," said Lady Henry, her white lips twitching. "Say them now, mademoiselle."