ay--' began Lawford.

'To creep out in my absence like a thief, and to return like a
mountebank; that was part of our compact?'

'I say,' he stubbornly began again, 'did you wire for Alice?'

'Will you please answer my question? Am I to be a mere catspaw in your
intrigues, in this miserable masquerade before the servants? To set the
whole place ringing with the name of a doctor that doesn't exist, and
a bedridden patient that slips out of the house with his bedroom key in
his pocket! Are you aware that Ada has been hammering at your door
every half-hour of your absence? Are you aware of that? How much,'
she continued in a low, bitter voice, 'how much should I offer for her
discretion?'

'Who was that with Alice?' inquired the same toneless voice.

'I refuse to be ignored. I refuse to be made a child of. Will you please
answer me?'

Lawford turned. 'Look here, Sheila,' he began heavily, 'what about
Alice? If you wired: well, it's useless to say anything more. But if you
didn't, I ask you just this one thing. Don't tell her!'

'Oh, I perfectly appreciate a father's natural anxiety.'

Her husband drew up his shoulders as if to receive a blow. 'Yes, yes,'
he said, 'but you won't?'

The sound of a young laughing voice came faintly up from below. 'How did
Jimmie Fortescue know she was coming home to-day?'

'Will you not inquire of Jimmie Fortescue for yourself?'

'Oh, what is the use of sneering?' began the dull voice again. 'I am
horribly tired, Sheila. And try how you will, you can't convince me that
you believe for a moment that I am not myself, that you are as hard
as you pretend. An acquaintance, even a friend might be deceived; but
husband and wife--oh no! It isn't only a man's face that's himself--or
even his hands.' He looked at them, straightened them slowly out, and
buried them in his pockets. 'All I care about now is Alice. Is she, or
is she not going to be told? I am simply asking you to give her just a
chance.'

'"Simply asking me to give Alice a chance"; now isn't that really just a
little...?'

Lawford slowly shook his head. 'You know in your heart it isn't, Sheila;
you understand me quite well, although you persistently pretend not to.
I can't argue now. I can't speak up for myself. I am just about as far
down as I can go. It's only Alice.'

'I see; a lucid interval?' suggested his wife in a low, trembling voice.

'Yes, yes, if you like,' said her husband patiently, '"a lucid
interval." Don'