And then they were home . . .
Feathers' face was grim as he stopped the car at Miss Chester's gate and looked down at Marie.
"I hope you are not very tired, Mrs. Lawless," he said, and smiled grimly to himself in the gray night at the contrast of the banal inquiry and the passionate words that were almost choking him.
"No, I am not very tired," she said, and she gave him a little pale smile as they went up the steps together. "You will—will wait and see if Chris has come?"
"Yes."
She asked the maid who admitted them, "Has Mr. Lawless come home?" but she knew before the girl answered, for Chris' big traveling coat hung in the hall and there was a smell of cigarette smoke in the house which had been absent during the past weeks.
She felt a little giddy, and her heart was beating wildly. How could she bear to meet him and hear his casual "Hullo, Marie Celeste?"
"Mr. Lawless came home this afternoon quite early," the maid answered. "He had dinner with Miss Chester and went out: he said he should not be in till late."
There was a little silence.
"I won't stay then, Mrs. Lawless," Feathers said quietly. "Good- Night."