THE NEW HOUSE
"Yes," said Cicely.
He resented her tone of detachment. She had blown out her spill and stood twisting the charred ends of paper between her fingers. Long streaks of hair had loosened themselves and hung across her forehead, her cheeks were smeared with dust, her tall thin figure drooped with weariness, but her eyes were shining in the firelight with a strange excitement.
She became conscious of his irritated scrutiny.
"I must be looking simply awful———"
"Yes," said Herbert.
"I'd better try and tidy before tea."
"Yes. If we are going to have tea. If it doesn't come at once I really can't be bothered. There's a great deal for me to do, and I can't afford to waste any time."
He was a hungry man and peevish, having snatched a hasty and insufficient lunch. He thought that he detected a smile of indulgence as she raised her voice and shouted:
"Janet—hurry!"
They heard Janet stumbling up the three steps from the kitchen. She entered with
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