Harry alone. Then
and there she turned to the mirror and with her combs began to catch
back and smooth the disorder of her hair, seeing all the while Clara's
reflection hovering perturbed and vigilant in the background of her own.

While her hands were busy seeming to accommodate Clara, her mind was
marshaled to Clara's outwitting. The only thing to do was to tell
nothing. Let Clara spend her time in guessing. Unless by some wild
chance she had seen Kerr in the garden she couldn't come near the truth
of what had happened. But what was to be done with Harry? Harry was too
close to her to be ignored. Her attitude toward him had undergone a
change. In the moment in the red room, when she had seen him break the
one feeling that had held her to him, the feeling of awe and respect had
evaporated. She felt that it was quite impossible now for them to go on
on the same footing; yet, as long as she kept the sapphire she must
somehow manage to keep up an appearance of it. She must tell him
something.

At that dreadful dinner, where she sat a conscious frustrater of these
two silent ones, glancing at Harry's face, she knew that if she didn't
attack she would be attacked by him. It was here in the midst of the
noiseless passings of Shima, watching Harry's suspicious glances
flashing across the table at her strange disorder, that the idea
occurred to her of a way out of it. She was bold enough to try a daring
thrust at the mystery. If ever a hunter was to be led off on a false
scent, Harry was that one. She was amazed at the sudden, fearless
impulse that had sprung up in her. She wasn't even afraid to say to him
under Clara's nose, "Harry, I want you to myself after dinner. Come up
into the garden study."

He was very willing to follow her. She thought she detected in his
alacrity something more than curiosity or concern. It seemed almost as
if Harry was ashamed of that scene in the red room, and anxious to make
it up with her. He even tried before they had reached the head of the
stairs. "Oh, Flora--I say, Flora, I--"

But an explanation between them was the last thing she wanted just then.
She fairly ran, leaving him panting in the wake of her airy skirts.

For the first time since the thing began Clara was left out completely.
Flora knew she was even left out of a possibility of listening at the
keyhole. For the bright, tight, little room into which Harry followed
her was approached by a square entry and a double door. The r