“He said he would come down with the Gunnings,” explained Yvonne, her eyes flickering. “Besides, I always feel as though I were riding in an ambulance when he is in the car. He dissected every bit of music they played to-night. Now, James dear, you know he is quite dreadful.” She said it pleadingly, poutingly. “I offered to send the car back for him,” said Frederic, speaking for the first time. Brood drew a long breath. His glance met Lydia's and recognised the mute appeal that lay in her eyes. He smiled faintly, and hope rose in her troubled breast. “The Gunnings were there,” put in Yvonne, puffing more rapidly than usual at her cigarette. “They came to the box with Mr and Mrs Harbison during the intermission.” “What spiteful things did Mrs Harbison say about me?” demanded Brood, affecting a certain lightness of manner. “A cigarette, Ranjab. She despises me, I'm sure. Didn't she ask why I was not there to look after my beautiful and much-coveted wife?” “She said that you interested her more than any man she knew, and, of course, I considered that particularly spiteful. Her husband declared he would rather shoot with you than with any man in the world. He's very tiresome.” “We've hunted a good bit together,” said Brood. “Harbison says you are the most deadly shot he's ever seen,” said Frederic, relaxing slightly. “What was it he said about your wonderful accuracy with a revolver? What was it, Frederic? Hitting a shilling at some dreadful distance--thirty yards, eh?” “Thirty paces,” said Frederic. “My father often spoke of your shooting with a revolver, Mr Brood,” said Lydia. “He said it was really marvellous.” Yvonne laughed. “How interesting to have a husband who can even see as far as thirty paces. But revolver shooting is a doubtful accomplishment in these days of peace, isn't it? What is there to shoot at?” “Mad dogs and--men,” said Brood. Lydia's look required an answer. “No, I've never shot a mad dog, Lydia.” “Who was the young woman with the lisp, Freddy?” asked Yvonne abruptly. “Miss Dangerfield. Isn't she amusing? I love that soft Virginia drawl of hers. She's pretty, too. Old Hodder was quite taken with her.” A long, reverberating roll of thunder, ending in an ear-splitting crash that seemed no farther away than the window casement behind them, brought sharp exclamations of terror from the lips of the two women. The men, appalled, started to their feet. “Good Lord, that _was_ close!” cried Frederic. “There was no sign of a storm when we came in--just a steady, gentle spring rain.” “I am frightened,” shuddered Yvonne, wide-eyed with fear. “Do you think------” “It struck near by, that's all,” said Brood. “Lightning bolts are deceptive. One may think they strike at one's very elbow, and yet the spot is really miles away. I hope your mother is not distressed, my dear,” turning to Lydia. “She is afraid of the lightning, I know.”