or thought or consideration for others; and go out in this
condition--go out absolutely unashamed--to spend the evening at a
friend's. Peculiar friends they must be. Why, really, Arthur, you
must be mad!'

Lawford paused. Like a flock of sheep streaming helter-skelter
before the onset of a wolf were the thoughts that a moment before
had seemed so orderly and sober.

'Not mad--possessed,' he said softly.

'And I add this,' cried Sheila, as it were out of a tragic mask,
'somewhere in the past, whether of your own life, or of the lives
of those who brought you into the world--the world which you
pretend so conveniently to despise--somewhere is hidden some
miserable secret. God visits all sins. On you has fallen at last
the payment. THAT I believe. You can't run away, any more than a
child can run away from the cupboard it has been locked into for
a punishment. Who's going to hear you now? You have deliberately
refused to make a friend of me. Fight it out alone, then!'

Lawford heard the door close, and the dying away of the sound
that had been the unceasing accompaniment of all these later
years--the rustling of his wife's skirts, her crisp,
authoritative footstep. And he turned towards the flooding
sunlight that streamed in on the upturned surface of the
looking-glass. No clear decisive thought came into his mind, only
a vague recognition that so far as Sheila was concerned this was
the end. No regret, no remorse visited him. He was just alone
again, that was all--alone, as in reality he had always been