Once more she made a little movement with her hand. The rest of her was
like an image.
"Is this any use?" she asked.
Oliver stood up. He could not bear the hardness of her voice.
"Mabel, my darling——"
For an instant her lips shook; then again she looked at him with eyes of ice.
"I don't want that," she said. "It is of no use.. Then you did sign it?"
Oliver had a sense of miserable desperation as he looked back at her. He would infinitely have preferred that she had stormed and wept.
"Mabel——" he cried again.
"Then you did sign it?"
"I did sign it," he said at last.
She turned and went towards the door. He sprang after her.
"Mabel, where are you going?"
Then, for the first time in her life, she lied to her husband frankly and fully.
"I am going to rest a little," she said. "I shall see you presently at supper."
He still hesitated, but she met his eyes, pale indeed, but so honest that he fell back.
"Very well, my dear.... Mabel, try to understand."
He came down to supper half-an-hour later, primed with logic, and even kindled with emotion. The argument seemed to him now so utterly convincing; granted the
