'Is he making fun of me?'

Lawford almost imperceptibly shook his head.

'But what a question! And I've had no tea.' She drew her gloves
slowly through her hand. 'The thing, of course, isn't possible, I
know. But shouldn't I go mad, don't you think?'

Lawford gazed quietly back into the clear, grave, deliberate
eyes. 'Suppose, suppose, just for the sake of argument--NOT,' he
suggested.

She turned her head and reflected, glancing from one to the other
of the pure, steady candle-flames.

'And what was your answer?' she said, looking over her shoulder
at her brother.

'My dear child, you know what my answers are like!'

'And yours?'

Lawford took a deep breath, gazing mutely, forlornly, into the
lovely untroubled peace of her eyes, and without the least
warning tears swept up into his own. With an immense effort he
turned, and choking back every sound, beating hack every thought,
groped his way towards the square black darkness of the open
door.

'I must think, I must think,' he managed to whisper, lifting his