ame he was afraid. With every step he took he seemed to climb
farther and farther into the midst of fear. It was all around him--in the
close, airless dark and in the deathly quiet light that came from the open
doorway overhead. What was waiting for him there? His father, risen
unimaginably loathsome from the grave? For he could never be in the dark
without thinking of his father. Or something else? At least he knew that
the never-really-believed-in time of peace was over and that the monster
which had lain hidden and quiescent so long was crouched somewhere close
to him, ready to leap out.

Christine sat by the table under the light. There was a drawer beside her
which she had evidently torn out of its place in panic-stricken haste, for
the floor about her was littered with its contents--gloves and
handkerchiefs and ribbons. She held a shabby, empty purse in her limp
hand, and it was as though she had sat down because she had no longer the
strength to stand. He had not known before how grey her hair was. Her
face was grey, too, and withered like a dead leaf.

He stood hesitating in the doorway and they looked at one another. There
was no question of punishment or reproof between them. It was the old
days over again when they had clung together in the face of a common
peril--helpless and horribly afraid. She tried to smile and push the
empty purse out of sight as though it were of no account at all. And all
at once he was ashamed and miserable with pity.

"I was beginning to get quite worried about you." He could hardly hear
her. "Where have you been, Robert?"

He answered heavily, not moving from the doorway where he hung like a
sullen shadow.

"At the Circus."

"Is there a Circus? Why didn't Mrs. Withers tell me? If I had known that
I shouldn't have worried. I expect you were there yesterday too--and the
day before, weren't you, dear?"

He nodded, and she began to bundle everything back into the drawer, as
though at last a tiresome question had been satisfactorily settled.

"I knew it was all right. Mr. Ricardo was here this afternoon. He
thought I was ill--he thought you had told him you couldn't come because I
was ill. I said I had had to stay at home--it was easier--I knew there
had been a mistake."

The old life again. They were confederates and she had lied to shield him
even from herself. She was looking past him as though she saw someone
standing behind him in the dark passage.