"Quick! Dry your eyes! You must look composed. The other room!" he cried, in an imperative tone.
He caught her hand and drew her swiftly into the further drawing-room.
With the quickness which came of long practice in hiding her feelings Sonia composed her face to something of its usual gentle calm. There was even a faint tinge of colour in her cheeks; they had lost their dead whiteness. A faint light shone in her eyes; the anguish had cleared from them. They rested on the Duke with a look of ineffable gratitude. She sat down on a couch. The Duke went to the window and lighted a cigarette. They heard the door of the outer drawing-room open, and there was a pause. Quick footsteps crossed the room, and Guerchard stood in the doorway. He looked from one to the other with keen and eager eyes. Sonia sat staring rather listlessly at the carpet. The Duke turned, and smiled at him.
"Well, M. Guerchard," he said. "I hope the burglars have not stolen the coronet."
"The coronet is safe, your Grace," said Guerchard.
"And the paper-knives?" said the Duke.
"The paper-knives?" said Guerchard with an inquiring air.
