Half an hour passed--half an hour of brooding and reverie--before she heard his footstep ascending the stairs.

On the landing she met him with a pleasant smile.
'Have you enjoyed your drive ?' 'Pretty well.' 'And do you feel better ?' 'Not much, dear.

But it isn't worth talking about.' Later, he inquired where she had been.
'I had an appointment with Milly Vesper.' The first falsehood she had ever told him, and yet uttered with such perfect assumption of sincerity as would have deceived the acutest observer.

He nodded, discontented as usual, but entertaining no doubt.
And from that moment she hated him.

If he had plied her with interrogations, if he had seemed to suspect anything, the burden of untruth would have been more endurable.