ot deaf, but could, on the other hand, hear wonderfully well
for his age. Nothing annoyed his grandfather so much as being shouted
at, and of this Robin was continually reminded.

"Tut, tut, boy," said Sir Jeremy testily, "one would think that I was
deaf. Better? Yes, of course. Close the windows!"

"I'll ring for Marchant," said Robin, moving to the bell, "he ought to
have done it before." Sir Jeremy said nothing--it was impossible to
guess at his thoughts from his face; only his eyes moved uneasily round
the room.

He was wheeled to his accustomed corner by the big open stone
fireplace, and he lay there, motionless in his chair, without further
remark.

Marchant came in a moment later.

"The windows, Marchant," said Robin, still twisting uneasily at his
tie, "I think you had forgotten."

"I am sorry, sir," Marchant answered, "but Mr. Garrett had spoken this
morning of the room being rather close. I had thought that perhaps----"

He moved silently across the room and shut the window, barring out the
fluttering yellow light, the sparkling silver of the stars, the orange
of the fishing-boats, the murmured distance of the town.

A few moments later Clare Trojan came in. Although she had never been
beautiful she had always been interesting, and indeed she was (even
when in the company of women far more beautiful than herself) always
one of the first to whom men looked. This may have been partly
accounted for by her very obvious pride, the quality that struck the
most casual observer at once, but there was also an air of
indifference, a look in the eyes that seemed to pique men's curiosity
and stir their interest. It was not for lack of opportunity that she
was still unmarried, but she had never discovered the man who had
virtue and merit sufficient to cover the obvious disadvantages of his
not having been born a Trojan. Middle age suited the air of almost
regal dignity with which she moved, and people who had known her for
many years said that she had never looked so well as now. To-night, in
a closely-fitting dress of black silk relieved by a string of pearls
round her neck, and a superb white rose at her breast, she was almost
handsome. Robin watched her with satisfaction as she moved towards him.

"Ah, it's cold," she said. "I know Marchant left those windows open
till the last moment. Robin, your tie is shocking. It looks as if it
were made-up."

"I know," said Robin, still struggling with it