When Agatha's maid arrived, Quarrier also started to take his leave; but Sylvia, seated at a card-table, idly arranging the cards in geometrical designs and fanciful arabesques, looked up at him, saying:
“I wanted to say something to you, Howard.”
Agatha passed them, going into Sylvia's room for her wraps; and Quarrier turned to Sylvia:
“Well?” he said, with the slightest hint of impatience.
“Can't you stay a minute?” asked Sylvia, surprised.
“Agatha is going in the motor with me. Is it anything important?”
She considered him without replying. She had never before detected that manner, that hardness in a voice always so even in quality.
“What is it?” he repeated.
She thought a moment, putting aside for the time his manner, which she could not comprehend; then:
“I wanted to ask you a question—a rather ignorant one, perhaps. It's about your Amalgamated Electric Company. May I ask it, Howard?”