"I thought it was a most exciting adventure." she said. "But it would have been horrid if you had had to stay out there all night, wouldn't it?" She rose with a little yawn, as if the subject no longer interested her, and walked over to the open doorway which led into the garden.
Chris stood irresolute; he knew that Mrs. Heriot's eyes were upon him, and he was furious because his crimson flush would not die down. Mrs. Heriot laughed softly.
"So you told her then," she said.
Chris turned on his heel without answering, and followed his wife into the garden; there were some children playing ball in the sunshine and Marie was standing watching them with unseeing eyes.
She knew she had scored, but she felt no triumph—only a dull sort of misery at having humiliated the man she loved.
"Marie!" She turned round, the mask of indifference falling once more upon her face.
"Yes, what is it?"
"Who told you about last night?"
She shook her head. "Nobody."
But he persisted. "Did Feathers tell you?"