Garvington, taking him for a burglar, might shoot him. She insisted that
he looked at Agnes when he was talking about burglars, and meant that."

"What nonsense!" cried Mrs. Belgrove vigorously, at last having arrived
at a knowledge of why Lady Garvington had sought her. "Noel can come
here openly, so there is no reason he should steal here after dark."

"Well, he's romantic, you know, dear. And romantic people always prefer
windows to doors and darkness to light. The windows here are so
insecure," added Lady Garvington, glancing at the facade above her
untidy hair. "He could easily get in by sticking a penknife in between
the upper and lower sash of the window. It would be quite easy."

"What nonsense you talk, Jane," said Mrs. Belgrove, impatiently. "Noel
is not the man to come after a married woman when her husband is away. I
have known him since he was a Harrow schoolboy, so I have every right to
speak. Where is Sir Hubert?"

"He is at Paris or Pekin, or something with a 'P,'" said Lady Garvington
in her usual vague way. "I'm sure I don't know why he can't take Agnes
with him. They get on very well for a married couple."

"All the same she doesn't love him."

"He loves her, for I'm sure he's that jealous that he can't scarcely
bear her out of his sight."

"It seems to me that he can," remarked Mrs. Belgrove dryly. "Since he is
at Paris or Pekin and she is here."