"I've had a talk with him. I've come straight from the house now. He says he has all the proof he wants."
"You didn't commit yourself, did you? You didn't acknowledge anything?"
Her heart sank.
"No," she answered.
"Are you quite sure?" he asked, looking at her sharply.
"Quite sure," she lied again.
He leaned back in his chair and stared vacantly at the map of China which was hanging on the wall in front of him. She watched him anxiously. She was somewhat disconcerted at the manner in which he had received the news. She had expected him to take her in his arms and tell her he was thankful, for now they could be together always; but of course men were funny. She was crying softly, not now to arouse sympathy, but because it seemed the natural thing to do.
"This is a bloody mess we've got into," he said at length. "But it's no good losing our heads. Crying isn't going to do us any good, you know."
She noticed the irritation in his voice and dried her eyes.
"It's not my fault, Charlie. I couldn't help it."