And now, fear mastered her. Her dream had been a reality. And this--this
sweeping away from what had been his room of every familiar little
personal possession--was the symbol of some new and terribly changed
relation between them.

Forcing herself to move composedly while the maid still watched her,
she walked slowly out of the room, but the instant the door had closed
behind her she flew downstairs to her husband's study and, not pausing
to comply with the unwritten law which forbade entrance there without
express permission, broke in upon him as he sat at his desk, busily
occupied with his morning mail.

"Diane!"

Hugh turned towards her with a cold light of astonished disapproval in
his eyes.

"You know I don't like to be interrupted----"

"I know, I know. But I _had_ to come. Something's happened. There's been
a mistake. . . . Hugh, they've taken everything out of your room. All
your things."

She stood beside him breathlessly awaiting his reply--her passionate
dark eyes fixed on his face, two patches of brilliant colour showing on
the high cheek-bones that bore witness to her Russian origin.

They made a curious contrast--husband and wife. She, a slender thing of
fire and flame, hands clenched, lips quivering--woman every inch of her;