'Who was that with Alice?' inquired the same toneless voice.

'I refuse to be ignored. I refuse to be made a child of. Will
you please answer me?'

Lawford turned. 'Look here, Sheila,' he began heavily, 'what
about Alice? If you wired: well, it's useless to say anything
more. But if you didn't, I ask you just this one thing. Don't
tell her!'

'Oh, I perfectly appreciate a father's natural anxiety.'

Her husband drew up his shoulders as if to receive a blow. 'Yes,
yes,' he said, 'but you won't?'

The sound of a young laughing voice came faintly up from below.
'How did Jimmie Fortescue know she was coming home to-day?'

'Will you not inquire of Jimmie Fortescue for yourself?'

'Oh, what is the use of sneering?' began the dull voice again. 'I
am horribly tired, Sheila. And try how you will, you can't
convince me that you believe for a moment that I am not myself,
that you are as hard as you pretend. An acquaintance, even a
friend might be deceived; but husband and wife--oh no! It isn't
only a man's face that's himself--or even his hands.' He looked
at them, straightened them slowly out, and buried them in his
pockets. 'All I care about now is Alice. Is she, or is she not
going to be told? I am simply asking you to give her just a