“I must apologize for my discourtesy,” said Aubrey, still white and shaking, turning, without another look at her, to Harry. “I had always understood that Mr. Braithwaite--was a short man;” and, raising his hat, he went down-stairs. CHAPTER XXI. Annie stood with her husband at the top of the stairs until she heard the street door shut upon Aubrey Cooke; then, recovering her self-command, she turned and said, “Won’t you come in?” and led the way into her sitting-room. Harry followed, and stood at first speechless with anger in the middle of the small room, while his wife moved restlessly toward the fireplace. Then, beginning to perceive that, for once, her self-possession was no greater than his own, he found words. “So this is what your ‘ambition,’ your ‘love of work’ means!” “What do you mean?” “What do I mean? You know very well what I mean! Do you think I couldn’t see through the farce your ‘oldest friend’ played to shield you? Do you think I don’t know that this was the first time he had ever heard of me? When I told him my name, it was easy enough to see that it meant nothing to him. Answer me this: did he or did he not know you were married?” He was working himself up to a white heat of passion, and Annie feared for the consequences of any admission she might make while he was in this mood. She tried to delay explanation by going to him, taking his hand, and attempting to draw him to a seat by the fire. Dusk was coming on, and he could not clearly see her face as she approached him with bent head, but he felt that the hands into which she was trying to draw his were cold and trembling. He would not move from where he stood; but, with a sudden, almost rough motion, he raised her head and peered down into her averted eyes. She shrunk from the unexpected ordeal, and tried to edge away from him with an involuntary eagerness which incensed him still more against her. “Is this all the answer you have to give me? You can’t meet my eyes, you shrink away from my touch! Is this the welcome a good wife gives to her husband? Annie, answer me! Did that man know you were married?” “Harry, let me go! You are hurting me! I cannot answer you anything until you let me go. See the mark you have left upon my wrist! How can you be so brutal?” “You are not going to put me off like that,” said Harry, firmly. “I know how you women will wriggle out of a subject you don’t like, if you can. I am sorry if I have hurt you: you know very well I did not mean to do that; but I will be answered. Now sit down and get quite quiet and calm. I won’t hurt you, whatever you say; but you must tell me the whole truth, because, if you tell me any lies, I shall find them out and be very angry about it.”