He would divorce her. It would be in the papers. But no. What was that
he had said to Hugh--"No names to be mentioned; all scandal avoided."

She shivered and drew in her breath. It was to be settled some other
way. Her mind became an entire blank. Another way! What way? She
remembered now, and an inarticulate cry broke from her. They had drawn
lots.

_Which had drawn the short lighter?_

Her husband had laughed. But then he laughed at everything. He was never
really serious, always shallow and heartless. He would have laughed if
he had drawn it himself. Perhaps he had. Yes, he certainly had drawn it.
But Hugh? She saw again the white, set face as he passed her. No; it
must be Hugh who had drawn it--Hugh, whom she loved. She wrung her hands
and moaned, half aloud:

"Which? Which?"

There was a slight movement in the next room, the door was opened, and
Lord Newhaven appeared in the door-way. He was still in evening dress.

"Did you call?" he said, quietly. "Are you ill?" He came and stood
beside her.

"No," she said, hoarsely, and she sat up and gazed fixedly at him.
Despair and suspense were in her eyes. There was no change in his, and
she remembered that she had never seen him angry. Perhaps she had not
known when he was angry.