These absences of Katharine's, moreover, left
them exposed to interruptions which almost destroyed their pleasure in
being alone together. The rainy evening made it impossible to go out;
and, indeed, according to William's code, it was considerably more
damning to be seen out of doors than surprised within. They were so much
at the mercy of bells and doors that they could hardly talk of Macaulay
with any conviction, and William preferred to defer the second act of
his tragedy until another day.

Under these circumstances Cassandra showed herself at her best. She
sympathized with William's anxieties and did her utmost to share them;
but still, to be alone together, to be running risks together, to be
partners in the wonderful conspiracy, was to her so enthralling that
she was always forgetting discretion, breaking out into exclamations and
admirations which finally made William believe that, although deplorable
and upsetting, the situation was not without its sweetness.

When the door did open, he started, but braved the forthcoming
revelation. It was not Mrs. Milvain, however, but Katharine herself who
entered, closely followed by Ralph Denham. With a set expression which
showed what an effort she was making, Katharine encountered their eyes,
and saying, "We're not going to interrupt you," she led Denham behind
the curtain which hung in front of the room with the relics. This refuge
was none of her willing, but confronted with wet pavements and only some
belated museum or Tube station for shelter, she was forced, for Ralph's
sake, to face the discomforts of her own house. Under the street lamps
she had thought him looking both tired and strained.

Thus separated, the two couples remained occupied for some time with
their own affairs. Only the lowest murmurs penetrated from one section
of the room to the other. At length the maid came in to bring a message
that Mr. Hilbery would not be home for dinner. It was true that there
was no need that Katharine should be informed, but William began to
inquire Cassandra's opinion in such a way as to show that, with or
without reason, he wished very much to speak to her.

From motives of her own Cassandra dissuaded him.

"But don't you think it's a little unsociable?" he hazarded. "Why not do
something amusing?--go to the play, for instance? Why not ask Katharine
and Ralph, eh?" The coupling of their names in this manner caused
Cassandra's heart to leap with pleasure.

"Don't