Mrs. Summers nodded, and was annoyed to find her eyes filled with tears.
The room was quite still for what seemed a long time, and when a clock struck they both started.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Mayne, with a glance at it. “We’ve missed that show.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, mechanically.
He drew himself up as though with a sudden resolve. “Do you mind if I go? I—I feel rather as though I’d like to walk a thousand miles or so,” he added, with a forced laugh.
She put out her hand. “Yes, go,” she said, very kindly. “You don’t forget you’re dining here to-night? Cecily told me to remind you that dinner is at half-past eight.”
He nodded. “All right.” He was still holding her hand, and suddenly he raised it to his lips, dropped it hurriedly, and went out without a word.
Mrs. Summers stood looking at the back of her hand. “If I’d been in his place, I should have cut you off instead,” she said, savagely under her breath—“with a blunt knife, too!”
CHAPTER XXI
WHEN Cecily returned, it was about six o’clock. She was tired, and after asking for Rose, and hearing that she was in her room, she decided to dress at once, and afterwards rest on the sofa in the drawing-room, till the arrival of her guests.