nothing better to do.'

Susie threw back her head. Arthur was standing just in front of them
looking down at the ground in complete abstraction.

'Do you see him?' she said, in a low voice quivering with indignation.
'That is what you have made him.'

He looked up at that moment and turned upon them his sunken, tormented
eyes. They saw his wan, pallid face with its look of hopeless woe.

'Do you know that he's killing himself on your account? He can't sleep at
night. He's suffered the tortures of the damned. Oh, I hope you'll suffer
as he's suffered!'

'I wonder that you blame me,' said Margaret. 'You ought to be rather
grateful.'

'Why?'

'You're not going to deny that you've loved him passionately from the
first day you saw him? Do you think I didn't see that you cared for him
in Paris? You care for him now more than ever.'

Susie felt suddenly sick at heart. She had never dreamt that her secret
was discovered. Margaret gave a bitter little laugh and walked past her.

12

Arthur Burdon spent two or three days in a state of utter uncertainty,
but at last the idea he had in mind grew so compelling as to overcome all
objections. He went to the Carlton and asked for Margaret. He had learnt
from the porter that Haddo was gone out and so counted on finding her
alone. A simple device enabled him to avoid sending up his name. When he
was shown into her private room Margaret was sitting down. She neither
read nor worked.

'You told me I might call upon you,' said Arthur.

She stood up without answering, and turned deathly pale.

'May I sit down?' he asked.

She bowed her head. For a moment they looked at one another in silence.
Arthur suddenly forgot all he had prepared to say. His intrusion seemed
intolerable.

'Why have you come?' she said hoarsely.

They both felt that it was useless to attempt the conventionality of
society. It was impossible to deal with the polite commonplaces that ease
an awkward situation.

'I thought that I might be able to help you,' he answered gravely.

'I want no help. I'm perfectly happy. I have nothing to say to you.'

She spoke hurriedly, with a certain nervousness, and her eyes were fixed
anxiously on the door as though she feared that someone would come in.

'I feel that we have much to say to one another,' he insisted. 'If it is
inconvenient for us to talk here, will you not come and see me?'

'He'd know,' she cried suddenly, as if the words were dragged ou