‘That little exhibition of finesse was part of our agreement, I suppose?’
‘I say—’ began Lawford.
‘To creep out in my absence like a thief, and to return like a mountebank; that was part of our compact?’
‘I say,’ he stubbornly began again, ‘did you wire for Alice?’
‘Will you please answer my question? Am I to be a mere catspaw in your intrigues, in this miserable masquerade before the servants? To set the whole place ringing with the name of a doctor that doesn’t exist, and a bedridden patient that slips out of the house with his bedroom key in his pocket! Are you aware that Ada has been hammering at your door every half-hour of your absence? Are you aware of that? How much,’ she continued in a low, bitter voice, ‘how much should I offer for her discretion?’
‘Who was that with Alice?’ inquired the same toneless voice.
‘I refuse to be ignored. I refuse to be made a child of. Will you please answer me?’
Lawford turned. ‘Look here, Sheila,’ he began heavily, ‘what about Alice? If you wired: well, it’s useless to say anything more. But if you didn’t, I ask you just this one thing. Don’t tell her!’
‘Oh, I perfectly appreciate a father’s natural anxiety.’
Her husband drew up his shoulders as if to receive a blow. ‘Yes, yes,’ he said, ‘but you won’t?’