"Nonsense," Julian said brusquely.
She laid her hand on his, and hers was trembling.
"Well, then, why's he gone off all sudden like that?"
"Only for a joke. Wait, I'll fetch him back."
Cuckoo Bright looked frankly terrified at the idea.
"No," she cried; "don't. I'm goin'. I'm off. Help me on with my cloak, dearie. I'm off."
Julian saw that it was useless to argue with her. He put the cloak round her shoulders. As he did so he was standing behind her, with his face to the fireplace. The leaping flames sprang from the coals in the grate, and their light was reflected on the wall, near the door, but only, of course, to a certain height. Julian's eyes were attracted to these leaping flames on the wall, and he saw one suddenly detach itself from the shadows of its brethren, take definite shape and life, develop while he looked from shadow into substance, float up on the background of the wall higher and higher, reach the ceiling and melt away. As it faded the drawing-room door opened and Valentine reappeared.
Miss Bright started violently, and caught at her cloak with both hands.
Valentine came forward slowly.
"You are not going already, surely," he said.
"I must, I must," she ejaculated, already in movement towards the hall.