Mrs. Heriot laughed and looked at Chris.
"Do we want Charon to row us on the Styx?" she asked.
Chris made a wry little face.
"I think we might be able to manage without his help," he said.
He gave her his hand and followed her into the skiff.
It was a perfect night. There was hardly a ripple on the water, and the moon was rising in a gleam half-circle above the horizon.
Mrs. Heriot dabbled her hand in the cool water, and her diamond rings glittered like sparks of fire.
"Now, isn't this better than that horrid, stuffy old billiard room?" she asked presently.
Chris frowned, and his friend's words, which he had forgotten for the moment, came back with worrying insistence.
"It's no worse than the billiard room. . . . You spend too much of your time there. . . ."