evening coat,
and sat quite still gazing on the ground. Charmian went on talking, but
she did not know what she was saying, and at last she felt that she
could not endure to sit any longer at the disordered supper-table.
Movement seemed necessary to her body, which felt distressed.

"Do have some more champagne, Alston!" she said.

"Not another drop, Mrs. Charmian, thank, you! I must think of my voice."

"Well, then--"

She pushed back her chair, glanced at Claude. He moved, lifted his eyes.

"Dare you smoke, Alston?" he said.

"I've got to, whether I dare or not. But"--his kind and honest eyes went
from Charmian to Claude--"I think, if you don't mind, I'll smoke on the
way home. I'll go right away now if you won't think it unfriendly. The
fact is I'm a bit tired, and I bet you both are, too. These things take
it out of one, unless one is made of cast-iron like Crayford, or steel
like Mulworth, or whipcord like Jimber. You must both want a good long
rest after all you've been through over here in God's own country, eh?"

He fetched his coat from the lobby. Claude got up and gave him a cigar,
lit it for him.

"Well, Mrs. Charmian--" he said.

He held out his big hand. His fair face flushed a little, and his rather
blunt features looked boyish and emotional.

"We've brought it off. We've done our best. Now we can only leave it to
the critics and the public."

He squeezed her hand so hard that all the blood seemed to leave it.

"Good-night! I'll come round to-morrow. Good-night."

He seemed reluctant to depart, still held her hand. But at last he just
repeated "Good-night!" and let it go.

"Good-night, dear Alston," she murmured.

Claude went with him into the lobby and shut the sitting-room door
behind them. She heard their voices talking, but could not hear any
words. The voices continued for what seemed to her a long while. She
moved about the room, saw Alston's red roses where she had laid them
down when she came in from the theater, and the vase full of water which
the German waiter had brought. And she began to put the flowers in the
water, lifting them carefully and slowly one by one. They had very long
stems and all their leaves. She arranged them with apparent
sensitiveness. But she was scarcely conscious of what she was doing.
When all the roses were in the vase she did not know what else to do.
And she stood still listening to the murmur of those voices. At last it
ceased. She heard a door shut