heart. I warn you, then. Until next Thursday I consent to say
nothing provided you remain quiet; make no disturbance, no
scandal here. The servants and all who inquire shall simply be
told that my husband is confined to his room with--with a nervous
breakdown, as you have yourself so glibly suggested. I am at your
mercy, I own it. The vicar believes your preposterous story--with
his spectacles off. You would convince anybody with the wicked
cunning with which you have cajoled and wheedled him, with which
you have deceived and fooled a foreign doctor. But you will not
convince me. You will not convince Alice. I have friends in the
world, though you may not be aware of it, who will not be quite
so apt to believe any cock-and-bull story you may see fit to
invent. That is all I have to say. To-night I tell the vicar all
that I have just told you. And from this moment, please, we are
strangers. I shall come into the room no more than necessity
dictates. On Friday we resume our real parts. My husband--
Arthur--to--to connive at...Phh!'

Rage had transfigured her. She scarcely heard her own words. They
poured out senselessly, monotonously, one calling up another, as
if from the lips of a Cassandra. Lawford sank back into bed,
clutching the sheets with both lean hands. He took a deep breath
and shut his mouth.

'It reminds me, Sheila,' he began arduously, 'of our first
quarrel before we were married, the evening after your aunt Rose
died at Llandudno--do you remember? You threw open the window,
and I think--I saved your life.' A pause followed. Then a queer,
almost inarticulate voice added, 'At least, I am afraid so.'