involved, wordy stuff that only the high-brows can
understand."

He broke off laughing.

"Well, anyway we sent for it back in double-quick time; but Lewis had
taken the huff and didn't want us to have it. So Hart had to
apologize--which _he_ didn't enjoy--and altogether the place was in a
ferment."

"But it's all right now?"

"Yes, thank Heaven. I say, Toni; I went to see old Vincent about my arm
to-day, and he says it is fairly normal again. I'll tell you a secret,
shall I, Toni? As soon as the book is finished I'm going to start a
play."

"Are you?" Her voice sounded cold, though it was only vague; and her
unusual lack of interest rather hurt Owen.

"Oh, we'll have our holiday first," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to
do you out of that. How would you like a few weeks in Switzerland--for
the winter sports? We could get off in about three weeks, and stay over
Christmas. Then, when we came home"--in spite of himself his tone took a
new enthusiasm--"I could get to work again."

"You are going to write a play? But I didn't know you could write
plays."

Her childishness jarred his nerves, already worn with the minor
vexations of the day.

"Well, _I_ don't know until I try." He spoke rather curtly. "But I've
talked it over with Barry, and we think it sounds possible."

"I see. And if it were a success?"

"Why, our fortune would be made." He took her arm in friendly fashion.
"Then we should have to go and live in town, Toni, take a big house and
launch out. You'd like that, eh?"

"I should hate it," she said, so fervently that he dropped her arm in
astonishment and turned to look at her.

"Hate it! Why?"

"I hate big houses--and entertaining--and all the rest. I--I should
loathe to have to go to receptions and give big parties--I'm never any
good at talking, you know yourself I look a fool when anyone tries to
talk to me."

"I know you're a little silly," said Owen teasingly, "but you'll outgrow
that. Here we are--come along in, Toni, it's really beginning to rain.
Come in, Jock, and let me shut the door."

Safely inside the hall, Owen turned to Toni.

"Come into the library, will you, dear? I'll send for some sandwiches
and a whisky and soda, I think. I hurried over dinner and I'm hungry."

Toni gave the order at once, and then followed Owen to the library,
where a cheerful fire burned, and in the mellow lamplight the room
looked very stately and charming.

She sat down on the low club-fender in