In the morning he made no allusion to the previous night, and she was
afraid to ask any question.

From that day there seemed some shadow over Geoffrey Brent. He neither
ate nor slept as he had been accustomed, and his former habit of turning
suddenly as though someone were speaking from behind him revived. The
old hall seemed to have some kind of fascination for him. He used to go
there many times in the day, but grew impatient if anyone, even his
wife, entered it. When the builder's foreman came to inquire about
continuing his work Geoffrey was out driving; the man went into the
hall, and when Geoffrey returned the servant told him of his arrival and
where he was. With a frightful oath he pushed the servant aside and
hurried up to the old hall. The workman met him almost at the door; and
as Geoffrey burst into the room he ran against him. The man apologised:

'Beg pardon, sir, but I was just going out to make some enquiries. I
directed twelve sacks of lime to be sent here, but I see there are only
ten.'

'Damn the ten sacks and the twelve too!' was the ungracious and
incomprehensible rejoinder.

The workman looked surprised, and tried to turn the conversation.

'I see, sir, there is a little matter which our people must have done;
but the governor will of course see it set right at his own cost.'

'What do you mean?'