first thing to-morrow. And till then,' he turned to Mrs Lawford,
where she stood looking in at the doorway, 'oh yes, complete
quiet; and caution!'

Mrs Lawford let him out. He shook his head once or twice, holding
her fingers. 'Oh yes,' he whispered, 'it is your husband, not the
smallest doubt. I tried: for MYSELF. But something--something has
happened. Don't fret him now. Have patience. Oh yes, it is
incredible... the change! But there, the very first thing
to-morrow.' She closed the door gently after him, and stepping
softly back to the dining-room, peered in. Her husband's back was
turned, but he could see her in the looking-glass, stooping a
little, with set face watching him, in the silvery stillness.

'Well,' he said, 'is the old--' he doggedly met the fixed eyes
facing him there, 'is our old friend gone?'

'Yes,' said Sheila, 'he's gone.' Lawford sighed and turned round.
'It's useless talking now, Sheila. No more questions. I cannot
tell you how tired I am. And my head--'

'What is wrong with your head?' inquired his wife discreetly.

The haggard face turned gravely and patiently. 'Only one of my
old headaches.' he smiled, 'my old bilious headaches--the
hereditary Lawford variety.' But his voice fell low again. 'We
must get to bed.'

With a rather pretty and childish movement, Sheila gently drew
her hands across her silk skirts. 'Yes, dear,' she said, 'I have