It's only humbug, anyway; you know that, don't you, Shiela ?" He untwisted the paper in his hand and held it in the candle flame until it burned to cinders.
"What was there on that paper ?" asked Shiela, managing to control her voice.
"Why, merely a suggestion that I travel," he said coolly.

"I can't see why my sister should make a fool of herself over the idea of my going on a journey.

I've meant to, for years--to rest myself.

I've told you that often, haven't I, Shiela ?" She nodded slowly, but her eyes reverted to the woman crouching in the chair, face buried in her brilliantly jewelled hands.

Portlaw and Tressilvain were also staring at her.
"You'd better go to bed, Helen," said Malcourt coolly; and turned on his heel, lighting a cigarette.
A little later the Tressilvains and Shiela started across the lawn to their own apartments, and Malcourt went with them to hold an umbrella over his wife.
In the lower hall they separated with scarcely a word, but Malcourt detained his brother-in-law by a significant touch on the arm, and drew him into the library.
"So you're leaving to-morrow ?" he asked.
"What ?" said Tressilvain.
"I say that I understand you and Helen are leaving us to-morrow." "I had not thought of leaving," said Tressilvain.
"Think again," suggested Malcourt.
"What do you mean ?" Malcourt walked up very close and looked him in the face.
"Must I explain ?" he asked contemptuously.