She had the painful feeling that he wanted to put her in the wrong, to quarrel with her.

Even as he spoke he was tearing the telegram into small pieces, and casting them down on to the neat, well-kept grass path.
"I suspect I know the business he came about--" He was speaking quietly, collectedly, now, and she felt that he was making a great effort to speak calmly and confidently.
"I don't think, Lionel, that you can know," she answered at last, in an almost inaudible voice.
"Well, let me tell you what it is that I suspect," he said.
There was a long pause.

He was looking at her warily, wondering, evidently, as to how far he dared confide in her.

And that look of his made her feel sick and faint.
"I suspect," he said at last, "that Gifford came to tell you a cock-and-bull story concocted by my wife's companion, a woman called Julia Pigchalke." "Yes, Lionel, you have guessed right." It was an unutterable relief that he thus made the way easy for her; a relief--but she now knew that what Gifford had told her was true.
"He wants me to get everyone away from here to-day," she went on, in a tone so low that he could scarcely hear her.
"Away from here?
To-day ?" he repeated, startled.
"Yes, away before to-morrow midday." She moistened her dry lips with her tongue.
"I am the victim of a foul conspiracy!" he exclaimed.

"Panton warned me that I should have trouble with that woman." He waited a moment, then: "Did Gifford tell you that they have sent for Panton ?" he asked suddenly.