He pulled out his watch.
"It is late. I must wish you good-night, madame. Kindly say good-night for me to that lady, your friend, and to Monsieur Heath."
He bowed. Charmian did not hold out her hand. She meant to, but it seemed to her that her hand refused to move, as if it had a will of its own to resist hers.
"Good-night," she said.
She watched his rather short and broad figure pass across the open space of the court and disappear.
After he had gone she moved across the court to the fountain and sat down at its edge. She was trembling now, and her excitement was growing in solitude. But she still had the desire to govern it, the hope that she would be able to do so. She felt that she had been grossly insulted by Gillier. But she was not only angry with him. She stared at the rising and falling water, clasping her hands tightly together. "I will be calm!" she was saying to herself. "I will be calm, mistress of myself."
But suddenly she got up, went swiftly across the court to the garden entrance, and called out:
"Susan! Claude! Where are you?"
Her voice sounded to her sharp and piercing in the night.
"What is it, Charmian?" answered Claude's voice from the distance.