At that same moment, in the manager’s room at the offices of the Welcome Diamond Mining Company, Julian Romayne was standing by the table, looking down at Ramsay as the latter sat leaning back in his chair, indifferent enough in attitude, but with a hard intensity of expression in his dull eyes. Julian had evidently just risen, pushing back his chair, the back of which he was gripping almost convulsively. His face was ashen, his eyes were dilated with an expression of desperate, intolerable temptation. “I’ll do it,” he was saying in a harsh, unnatural voice. “I’ll do it, Ramsay. Shake hands on it.” CHAPTER IX The cottage which Mrs. Romayne had taken for August and September, on Julian’s refusal to go abroad, was situated a few miles above Henley. It was a very charming little house, to which the term “cottage” was applicable only in mock humility; and it was very charmingly situated. It had a delightful garden, not large, but full of “roses, and sunflowers, and all sorts of things,” as Mrs. Romayne explained to Julian after her visit of inspection. Its lawns sloped down to the river, and altogether, on the same authority, it was a wonderful chance to get hold of it. The statement which Mrs. Romayne had made to Lady Bracondale on Julian’s authority, that there were “nice people about,” had originated, as a matter of fact, not with Julian, but with his mother herself. It was quite true, nevertheless; but apparently Julian’s sudden desire for quiet had proved infectious. The acquaintance between herself and her present neighbours being of the slightest, Mrs. Romayne made no such attempt as might have been expected of her to develope that acquaintance. She seemed to be strangely without impetus in herself towards action of any kind. She was “resting,” some people might have said; she was pausing, certainly. But whether, as the days went on, her life did not signify rather temporary and enforced quiescence, than the peaceful and pleasant suspension of labour, might have been an open question.