‘I am not jesting, though you are.’ Dinah started to her feet, her eyes were level with her husband’s. ‘Geoffrey came in after you had gone away; I was idle and dull as usual, and Geff asked me to carry some fruit and flowers to the hospital. The walk did me good. We visited a Devonshire sailor-lad--like one of my own people, he seemed to me--and I was able to talk with him, the old country talk I love so well. And afterwards, coming back--perhaps with my heart a little lightened--I met ... your friend.’ ‘Poor, ill-fated Linda Thorne?’ ‘And everything went dark again. It was then I heard about your bet, how you had won, how Mrs. Thorne was bankrupt! Mrs. Thorne had made her way into the parlour while I was out. Your winnings were left for you by her own hand. Gaston, I found them!’ ‘The situation, my dear girl, grows poignant. You found them!’ Gaston Arbuthnot checked himself. The dimensions of this domestic tragedy--this storm of wifely passion over a pair of iron-gray gloves--overcame him with a fatal sense of the ridiculous. Dinah saw that he repressed a smile. Her righteous anger waxed hotter. ‘And I intend to keep them until I die. If ... I mean when you see Mrs. Thorne, you can tell her so.’ ‘I will do nothing of the sort,’ said Arbuthnot, thoroughly incensed at last. ‘This constant Inquisition business grows unbearable! There will be no living with you, Dinah, if you go on nursing these puerile, these childish jealousies. I would no more offer an impertinence to Mrs. Thorne than to any other lady of my acquaintance. You must learn to be reasonable.’ ‘Must I? I have tried to learn much the last few days, without success. It is because I can’t learn, because I am ignorant’--her voice had grown hoarse, her eyes dilated--‘that I shall go away.’ ‘We can go as soon as you like; I have told you so already,’ said Gaston, coldly. ‘We can go the beginning of next week, if you choose. You would not object very much to my leaving cards on the few people who have been civil to me?’ ‘I would like to go to-morrow, if--if you will give me money enough for the journey. Geff will be crossing. He can see me as far as Southampton. After that, I can easily make my way on to Tavistock Moor----’ ‘You--alone?’ ‘Why not? In the old days, before I married, I needed no looking after.’ ‘And I am to follow with the luggage,’ suggested Mr. Arbuthnot. ‘You are quite sure there is room on Tavistock Moor for such luggage as ours?’ But his tone was doubtful. Less and less could he understand the look, yearning yet steadfast, that encountered him from his wife’s eyes. ‘I will take my luggage with me. As near as might be, I have tried to divide things. I have put all belonging to you in order, Gaston, as you will find.’