too much--too much."

He moved close to her, his face twitching, and took her shaking
shoulders between his hands.

"Molly!" he said almost violently. "You don't know what you said just
now. You didn't mean it. It has always been Fisher--always, from the
very beginning."

She did not contradict him. She did not even answer him. She was sobbing
as in passionate despair.

And it was that moment which Fisher chose for poking his head into the
smoking-room in search of Charlie, whom he expected to find dozing over
the fire, ignorant of the fact that it was close upon dinner-time.

Charlie leapt round at the opening of the door, but Fisher had taken
stock of the situation. He entered with that in his face which the boy
had never seen there before--a look that it was impossible to ignore.

Charlie met Fisher half-way across the room.

"Come into the billiard-room!" he said hurriedly.

He seized Fisher's arms with muscular fingers.

"Not here," he whispered urgently. "She is tired--upset. There is
nothing really the matter."

But Fisher resisted the impulsive grip.