'It's all there—it's all there!' Mrs. Capadose went on.
'Hang it, what's all there?'
'Everything there oughtn't to be—everything he has seen—it's too dreadful!'
'Everything he has seen? Why, ain't I a good-looking fellow? He has made me rather handsome.'
Mrs. Capadose had sprung up again; she had darted another glance at the painted betrayal. 'Handsome? Hideous, hideous! Not that—never, never!'
'Not what, in heaven's name?' the Colonel almost shouted. Lyon could see his flushed, bewildered face.
'What he has made of you—what you know! He knows—he has seen. Every one will know—every one will see. Fancy that thing in the Academy!'
'You're going wild, darling; but if you hate it so it needn't go.'
'Oh, he'll send it—it's so good! Come away—come away!' Mrs. Capadose wailed, seizing her husband.
'It's so good?' the poor man cried.
'Come away—come away,' she only repeated; and she turned toward the staircase that ascended to the gallery.
'Not that way—not through the house, in the state you're in,' Lyon heard the Colonel object. 'This way—we can pass,' he added; and he drew his wife to the small door that opened into the garden. It was bolted, but he pushed the bolt and opened the door. She passed out quickly, but he
