"A few days! We've got you now!" And to his wife: "Nina, I suppose I'm
due to lean over those infernal kids before I can have a minute with
your brother. Are they in bed yet? All right, Phil; we'll be down in a
minute; there's tea and things in the library. Make Eileen give you
some."

He turned, unaffectedly taking his pretty wife's hand in his large
florid paw, and Selwyn, intensely amused, saw them making for the
nursery absorbed in conjugal confab. He lingered to watch them go their
way, until they disappeared; and he stood a moment longer alone there in
the hallway; then the humour faded from his sun-burnt face; he swung
wearily on his heel, and descended the stairway, his hand heavy on the
velvet rail.

The library was large and comfortable, full of agreeably wadded corners
and fat, helpless chairs--a big, inviting place, solidly satisfying in
dull reds and mahogany. The porcelain of tea paraphernalia caught the
glow of the fire; a reading lamp burned on a centre table, shedding
subdued lustre over ceiling, walls, books, and over the floor where lay
a few ancient rugs of Beloochistan, themselves full of mysterious,
sombre fire.

Hands clasped behind his back, he stood in the centre of the room,
considering his environment with the grave, absent air habitual to him
when brooding. And, as he stood there, a sound at the door aroused him,
and he turned to confront a young girl in hat, veil, and furs, who was
leisurely advancing toward him, stripping the gloves from a pair of very
white hands.