or. But there he paused. 'God knows,' he said, strangely and
meekly, 'I am sorry, sorry for all this. You will forgive me, Sheila?'

She looked up swiftly. 'It's very tiresome, I can't find anywhere,' she
murmured, 'I can't find anywhere the--the little red box key.'

Lawford's cheek turned more sallow than ever. 'You are only pretending
to look for it,' he said, 'to try me. We both know perfectly well the
lock is broken. Ada broke it.'

Sheila let fall the lid; and yet for a while her eyes roved over it as
if in violent search for something. Then she turned: 'I am so very glad
the vicar was at home,' she said brightly. 'And mind, mind you rest,
Arthur. There's nothing so bad but it might be worse.... Oh, I can't, I
can't bear it!' She sat down in the chair and huddled her face between
her hands, sobbing on and on, without a tear.

Lawford listened and stared solemnly. 'Whatever it may be, Sheila, I
will be loyal,' he said.

Her sobs hushed, and again cold horror crept over her. Nobody in
the whole world could have said that 'I will be loyal' quite like
that--nobody but Arthur. She stood up, patting her hair. 'I don't think
my brain would bear much more. It's useless to talk. If you will go up;
I will put out the lamp.'

CHAPTER FOUR

One solitary and tall candle burned on the great dressing-table. Faint,
solitary pictures broke the blankness of each wall. The carpet was rich,
the bed impressive, and the basins on the washstand as uninviting as the
bed. Lawford sat down on the edge of it in complete isolation. He sat
without stirring, listening to his watch ticking in his pocket. The
china clock on the chimney piece pointed cheerfully to the hour of dawn.
It was exactly, he computed carefully, five hours and seven minutes
fast. Not the slightest sound broke the stillness, until he heard, very,
very softly and gradually, the key of his door turn in the oiled wards,
and realized that he was a prisoner.

Women were strange creatures. How often he had heard that said, he
thought lamely. He felt no anger, no surprise or resentment, at the
trick. It was only to be expected. He could sit on till morning; easily
till morning. He had never noticed before how empty a well-furnished
room could seem. It was his own room too; his best visitors' room. His
father-in-law had slept here, with his whiskers on that pillow. His
wife's most formidable aunt had been all night here, alone with these
pictures. She certainly was...