'And the date of the month is underneath, "April 3rd." No one
else in the whole world, living or dead, could know of this but
ourselves, Sheila?'

'Will you please open the door?'

'No one?'

'I suppose not--no one.'

'Then come in.' He unlocked the door and opened it. A dark,
rather handsome woman, with sleek hair, in a silk dress of a dark
rich colour entered. Lawford closed the door. But his face was in
shadow. He had still a moment's respite.

'I need not ask you to be patient,' he began quickly; 'if I could
possibly have spared you--if there had been anybody in the world
to go to... I am in horrible, horrible trouble, Sheila. It is
inconceivable. I said I was sane: so I am, but the fact is--I
went out for a walk; it was rather stupid, perhaps, so soon: and
I think I was taken ill, or something--my heart. A kind of fit, a
nervous fit. Possibly I am a little unstrung, and it's all, it's
mainly fancy: but I think, I can't help thinking it has a little
distorted--changed my face; everything, Sheila; except, of
course, myself. Would you mind looking?' He walked slowly and
with face averted towards the dressing-table.

'Simply a nervous--to make such a fuss, to scare!...' began his
wife, following him.