“Robert!” murmured Philippa.
He was silent.
Philippa hesitated a moment, then, as though taking a sudden determination, she followed him to the fire, and resting one elbow on the mantelpiece, looked at him haughtily.
“Will you explain?” she demanded.
“What was Nevern doing here?” asked Robert, abruptly.
Philippa raised her eyebrows.
“He was calling on me.”
“Does he often call? Do you often have men here—to see you?” He spoke in a voice of suppressed anger.
“Quite often,” returned Philippa, firmly; “why not?”
Robert was silent. Presently he turned sharply towards the window, and stood looking out upon the roof-tops opposite.