"Game—love," repeated Lady Baradell, staring out over the lawn with half-shut eyes. "Ah, yes, Stuart, I shall believe you."
I leaned forward and looked at her steadily. "In a month's time," I said, "you will forgive me everything for the sake of last night."
There was a short silence. Then she answered in a low voice: "There can be no question of forgiveness between you and me."
Even as she spoke, I saw the door of the billiard-room open, and Aunt Mary, accompanied by a tall, grave-looking man in dark clothes, came out on to the lawn.
Lady Baradell laughed gently. "My husband," she said, "has all the virtues—even punctuality."
CHAPTER XV
"I've ordered dinner for half-past eight," said Aunt Mary, "so don't be later than eight if you can help it. We shall all be famished by then."
"We shall be before that," returned Maurice. "The flight's about half-past six, and it's only half an hour's walk from the marsh."
We were standing in the drive with our guns—he and I and York and Vane. A slack afternoon, succeeded by an early tea, had followed the tennis, and now we were just setting out upon our duck-shooting expedition. Baradell had declined to make one of the party, presumably preferring the society of his wife.