must have dropped it'
'Where? Let me look — '
They both bent down, awkward and embarrassed — and collided in doing so. Audrey sprang away. Nevile exclaimed : 'Wait a sec — my cuff button — it's caught in your hair. Standstill.'
She stood quite still as he fumbled with the button.
'Oo — you're pulling it out by the roots — how clumsy you are, Nevile; do be quick.'
'Sorry, I — I seem to be all thumbs.’’
The moonlight was bright enough for the two onlookers to see what Audrey could not see, the trembling of Nevile's hands as he strove to free the strand of fair silvery hair.
But Audrey herself was trembling, too — as though suddenly cold.
Mary Aldin jumped as a quiet voice said behind her: 'Excuse me — '
Thomas Royde passed between them and out.
'Shall I do that, Strange?' he asked.
Nevile straightened up and he and Audrey moved apart.
'It's all right. I've done it.'
Nevile's face was rather white.
'You're cold,' said Thomas to Audrey. 'Come in and have coffee.'
She came back with him and Nevile turned away, staring out to sea.
'I was bringing it out to you,' said Mary. 'But perhaps you'd better come in.'
'Yes,' said Audrey, 'I think I'd better come in.'
They all went back into the drawing-room. Ted and Kay had stopped dancing.
The door opened and a tall gaunt woman dressed in black came in. She said respectfully: 'Her ladyship's compliments, and she would be glad to see Mr. Treves up in her room.'
VI
Lady Tressilian received Mr. Treves with evident pleasure.
He and she were soon deep in an agreeable flood of reminiscences and a recalling of mutual acquaintances.
At the end of half an hour Lady Tressilian gave a deep sigh of satisfaction.
'Ah,' she said, 'I've enjoyed myself! There's nothing like exchanging gossip and remembering old scandals.'
'A little malice,' agreed Mr. Treves, 'adds a certain savour to life.'
'By the way,' said Lady Tressilian, 'what do you dunk of our example of the eternal triangle?'
Mr. Treves looked discreetly blank. 'Er — what triangle?'
'Don't tell me you haven't noticed it! Nevile and his wives.'
'Oh, that! The present Mrs. Strange is a singularly attractive young woman.'
'So is Audrey,' said Lady Tressilian.
Mr. Treves admitted : 'She has charm — yes.'
Lady Tressilian exclaimed: 'Do you mean to tell me you can understand a man leaving Audrey, who is a — a person of rare quality, for — for a Kay?'
Mr. Treves replied calmly: 'Perfectly. It happens frequently.'
'Disgusting. I should soon grow tired of Kay if I were a man and wish I had never made such a fool of myself!'
'That also happens frequently. These sudden passionate infatuations,' said Mr. Treves, looking very passionless and precise himself, 'are seldom of long duration.'
'And then what happens?' demanded Lady Tressilian.
'Usually,' said Mr. Treves, 'the — er — parties adjust themselves. Quite often there is a second divorce. The man then marries a third party — someone of a sympathetic nature.'
'Nonsense! Nevile isn't a Mormon — whatever some of your clients may be!'
'The remarriage of the original parties occasionally takes place.'
Lady Tressilian shook her head.
'That, no! Audrey has too much pride.'
'You think so?'
'I am sure of it. Do not shake your head in that aggravating fashion!'
'It has been my experience,' said Mr. Treves, 'that women possess little or no pride where love affairs are concerned. Pride is a quality often on — their lips, but not apparent in their actions.'
'You don't understand Audrey. She was violently in love with Nevile. Too much so, perhaps. After he left her for this girl (though I don't blame him entirely — the girl pursued him everywhere, and you know what men are!) she never wanted to see him again.'
Mr. Treves coughed gently. 'And yet,' he said, 'she is here!'
'Oh, well,' said Lady Tressilian, annoyed. 'I don't profess to understand these modern ideas. I imagine that Audrey is here just to show that she doesn't care, and that it doesn't matter!'
'Very likely.' Mr. Treves stroked his jaw. 'She can put it to herself that way, certainly.'
'You mean,' said Lady Tressilian, 'that you think she is still hankering after Nevile and that — oh, no! I won't believe such a thing!'
'It could be,' said Mr. Treves.
'I won't have it,' said Lady Tressilian. 'I won't have it in my house.'
'You are already disturbed, are you not?' asked Mr. Treves shrewdly. 'There is tension. I have felt it in the atmosphere.'
'So you feel it, too?' said Lady Tressilian sharply.
'Yes, I am puzzled, I must confess. The true feelings of the parties remain obscure, but, in my opinion, there is gunpowder about. The explosion may come any minute.'
'Stop talking like Guy Fawkes and tell me what to do,' said Lady Tressilian. Mr. Treves held up his hands.
'Really, I am at a loss to know what to suggest. There is, I feel sure, a focal-point. If we could isolate that — but there is so much that remains obscure.'
'I have no intention of asking Audrey to leave,' said Lady Tressilian. 'As far as my observation goes, she has behaved perfectly in a very difficult situation. She has been courteous, but aloof. I consider her conduct irreproachable.'
'Oh, quite,' said Mr. Treves. 'Quite. But it's having a most marked effect on young Nevile Strange, all the same.'
'Nevile,' said Lady Tressilian, 'is not behaving well. I shall speak to him about it. But I couldn't turn him out of the house for a moment. Matthew regarded him as practically his adopted son.'
'I know.'
Lady Tressilian sighed. She said in a lowered voice: 'You know that Matthew was drowned here?'
'Yes.'
'So many people have been surprised at my remaining here. Stupid of them. I have always felt Matthew near to me here. The whole house is full of him. I should feel lonely and strange anywhere else.' She paused and went on. 'I hoped at first that it might not be very long before I joined him. Especially when my health began to fail. But it seems I am one of these creaking gates — these perpetual invalids who never die.' She thumped her pillow angrily.
'It doesn't please me, I can tell you! I always hoped that when my time came, it would come quickly — that I should meet Death face to face — not feel him gradually creeping along behind me, always at my shoulder — gradually forcing me to sink to one indignity after another of illness. Increasing helplessness — increasing dependence on other people!'
'But very devoted people, I am sure. You have a faithful maid?'
