ere clear, it was equally evident that her
friends were bent on frustrating them. Within five minutes after Jane
Brodrick had removed her disturbing presence, Nina received a telegram
from Owen Prothero. He was coming to see her at five o'clock. It was now
half-past four.

This was what she had dreaded more than anything. Her fear of it had
kept her out of London for two years.

Owen had been considerate in notifying her of his coming. It suggested
that it was open to her to escape if she did not want to see him, while
it warned her not to miss him if she did. She debated the point for the
half hour he had left her, and decided that she would see him.

Prothero arrived punctually to his hour. She found no change in his
aspect or his manner. If he looked happy, he looked it in his own
supersensual way. Marriage had not abridged his immeasurable remoteness,
nor touched his incorruptible refinement.

He considered her with a medical eye, glad to see her bearing the signs
of life lived freely and robustly in the open air. Her mountains, he
said, evidently agreed with her.

She inquired after Laura, and was told that she would not know her. The
Kiddy, he said, smiling, had grown up. She was almost plump; she had
almost a colour.

"She wants to see you," he said. "She told me I was to bring you back
with me."

Ages passed before she answered. "I don't think, really, Owen, that I
can come."

"Why not?" he said.

She would have told him that she was too busy, but for her knowledge
that with Owen lying was no good. She resented his asking her why not,
when he knew perfectly well why.

"Why ever not," he repeated, "when we want you?"

She smiled. "You seem determined to get everything you want."

She had a good mind to tell him straight out, there and then, that he
couldn't have everything he wanted, not with her, at any rate. He
couldn't have it both ways. But you do not say these things; and if she
could judge by the expression of his face what she had said had hit him
hard enough.

He sheltered himself behind a semblance of irrelevance. "Laura is very
fond of you."

The significance of the statement lay in its implication that he was
very fond of Laura. Taken that way it was fuel heaped on to Nina's
malignant fire. Under it she smouldered darkly.

"She's getting unhappy about you," he went on. "You don't want to make
her unhappy, do you?"

"Did I ever want to make her unhappy?" she answered, with a flash.