"What!" he said, loudly.
"She is not married," repeated his son.
Mr. Vyner sank back in his chair again and looking round mechanically for his cigar, found it tracing a design on the carpet.
"D———n," he said fervently, as he stooped to remove it. He tossed it in his plate and leaning back glared at his son.
"Do you mean that she didn't marry Trimblett?" he inquired in a trembling voice.
"Yes."
Mr. Vyner drew the cigar-box toward him and selecting a cigar with great care, nipped off the end and, having lighted it, sat smoking in silence.
"This is very extraordinary," he said at last watching his son's eyes.
"I suppose she had a reason," said Robert in a matter-of-fact voice.
Mr. Vyner winced. He began to realize the state of affairs and sat trembling in impotent. Then he rose and paced up and down. He thought of his veiled threats to Hartley, the idea that his son should know of them added his anger.