A flash of scorn lit her cold eyes.

"I think," she said, "that you had better ask me no questions of that
sort."

Carraby went slowly out. Already the moment was passing. Of course he
could trust his wife! Besides, in his letter was the death warrant of
the man who stood between him and his ambitions. Mrs. Carraby listened
to his footsteps in the hall, heard his suave reply to his secretary,
heard his orders to the footman who let him out. From where she stood
she watched him cross the square. Already he had recovered his alert
bearing. His shoes and his hat were glossy, his coat was of an
excellent fit. The woman watched him without movement or any change of
expression.




CHAPTER III


A RUINED CAREER


Sir Julien Portel stood in the middle of his bedroom, dressed in shirt
and trousers only. The sofa and chairs around him were littered with
portions of the brilliant uniform which he had torn from his person a
few minutes before with almost feverish haste. His perplexed servant,
who had only just arrived, was doing his best to restore the room to
some appearance of order.