She packed up the cocoa-cups and turned off the gas-ring, opened the window and wound up the little Swiss clock. As she moved about the room folding Audrey's clothes and setting things to rights her own letter of Sunday morning was brought up, but she placed it on the mantelpiece by the side of the clock, forbidding Audrey to read it till the morning. Letters didn't matter now that she was here in her own capable, practical person. Letters took too long. She was going to have things done much more quickly or know the reason why. XIII Philip himself opened the door to her. She gave her cheek to be kissed and then walked straight in. "Is Monty here?" were her first words. "No. I think he's gone out for a walk." "A walk, at this time of night!" Philip shrugged his shoulders. "What brings you here, Mollie?" he said. She was busy untying her veil. "What do you suppose? Everything, of course." "Have you had dinner or supper?" "I had a cup of cocoa at Audrey Cunningham's, and don't want anything else. Now why didn't you answer my telegram, and why didn't you write again as you promised?" She threw the hat and veil on the table and her gloves after them and stood before Philip. "How are the children?" he asked. "Perfectly well." "And Joan?" Her only answer to this last was a long look. Then she walked to the little Empire sofa and sat down. He might stand if he wished. "Well?" she said at last. This was after a full minute, during which time he had stood by the table idly fingering her veil. Then suddenly his fingers pushed the veil aside, and he crossed to the sofa and sat down by her. "What is it you want to know, darling?" he asked. "Everything--every little thing from beginning to end," she replied. "You've seen that I don't want to tell you?" "Yes, I've seen that." "And that I probably have my reasons?" "Oh--reasons!" "Reasons that are stronger than ever at this moment?" "Will they go on getting much stronger? If so I can only warn you that a breaking-point will come." "Yes. I'm very near it." "And so am I, Philip."