'Please, Sheila, do nothing of the kind. I am not ill. I merely
want a little time to think in.' There was again a brief pause,
and then a slight rattling at the handle.

'Arthur, I insist on knowing at once what's wrong; this does not
sound a bit like yourself. It is not even quite like your own
voice.'

'It is myself,' he replied stubbornly, staring fixedly into the
glass. You must give me a few moments, Sheila. Something has
happened. My face. Come back in an hour.'

'Don't be absurd; it's simply wicked to talk like that. How do I
know what you are doing? As if I can leave you for an hour in
uncertainty! Your face! If you don't open at once I shall believe
there's something seriously wrong: I shall send Ada for
assistance.'

'If you do that, Sheila, it will be disastrous. I cannot answer
for the con--. Go quietly downstairs. Say I am unwell; don't wait
dinner for me; come back in an hour; oh, half an hour!'

The answer broke out angrily. 'You must be mad, beside yourself,
to ask such a thing. I shall wait in the next room until you
call.'

'Wait where you please,' Lawford replied, 'but tell them
downstairs.'

'Then if I tell them to wait until half-past eight, you will come