“I had better get it over at once,” he said, and hastened up-stairs.
He turned the handle of his wife’s bedroom, only to find that the door was locked.
“Mildred,” he called to her.
“I am tired. Good-night.”
The words were coldly spoken and he went away at once, but he had no wish for bed and so returned to the smoking-room where he found Drake awaiting him.
“Braithwaite has spoken to me. You have the pleasure of knowing that you have made one man supremely happy,” the latter said earnestly.
“I do not know that that gives me any great pleasure. At first I refused to help him, and he would have gone away without a penny, if I hadn’t remembered.”
“You mean—the vow?”
“Yes—and I am beginning to find that it enters into every detail of my life. It’s a big thing that I’m up against, and I’m almost tempted to own myself beaten,” Gaunt said wearily.
“I understand. You are afraid that Lady Mildred——”