deliberately close the door.

'What does this mean?' she began swiftly, 'I understand that--Ada
tells me a stranger is here; giving orders, directions. Who is
he? where is he? You bound yourself on your solemn promise not to
stir till I returned. You... How can I, how can we get decently
through this horrible business if you are so wretchedly
indiscreet? You sent Ada to the chemist's. What for? What for? I
say.'

Lawford watched his wife with an almost extraneous interest. She
was certainly extremely interesting from that point of view, that
very novel point of view. 'It's quite useless,' he said, 'to get
in the least nervous or hysterical. I don't care for the darkness
just now. That was all. Tell the girl I am a strange doctor--Dr
Simon's new partner. You are clever at conventionalities, Sheila.
Invent! I said our patient must be kept quiet--I really think he
must. That is all, so far as Ada is concerned.... What on earth
else ARE we to say?' he broke out. 'That, for the present to
EVERYBODY, is our only possible story. It will give us what we
must have--time. And next--where is the second volume of Quain? I
want that. And next--why have you broken faith with me?' Mrs
Lawford sat down. This sudden and baffling outburst had stupefied
her.

'I can't, I can't make head or tail of what you say. And as for
having broken faith, as you call it, would any wife, would any
sane woman face what you have brought on us, a situation like
this, without seeking advice and help? Mr Bethany will he
perfectly discreet--if he thinks discretion desirable. He is the