and the other man who was there laughed very heartily; but Arthur flushed to the roots of his hair. He felt horribly uncomfortable. He was ashamed. He dared not look at Margaret. It was inconceivable that from her exquisite mouth such indecency should issue. Margaret, apparently quite unconscious of the effect she had produced, went on talking and laughing.
Soon the lights were put out, and Arthur’s agony was ended. He wanted to rush away, to hide his face, to forget the sight of her and her gaiety, above all to forget that story. It was horrible, horrible.
She shook hands with him quite lightly.
“You must come and see us one day. We’ve got rooms at the Carlton.”
He bowed and did not answer. Susie had gone to the dressing-room to get her cloak. She stood at the door when Margaret came out.
“Can we drop you anywhere?” said Margaret. “You must come and see us when you have nothing better to do.”
Susie threw back her head. Arthur was standing just in front of them, looking down at the ground in complete abstraction.
“Do you see him?” she said, in a low voice quivering with indignation. “That is what you have made him.”
He looked up at that moment and turned upon them his sunken, tormented eyes. They saw his wan, pallid face with its look of hopeless woe.
“Do you know that he’s killing himself on your account? He can’t sleep at night. He’s suffered the
