"It’s not the drink," he stammered. "It’s not the drink, I tell you. It’s—it’s the money. I’m in a devil of a mess. These dirty foreigners——" "Oh, hush!" Nora cried. For the moment disgust and anger had passed. She had heard Wolff’s footstep in the adjoining room, and a sudden terror had come over her. "Robert, take him away—quick! And come back afterwards—Wolff may not ask for him whilst you are here. Oh, help me!" Arnold nodded silently. He lifted the hapless Miles and half dragged, half carried him from the room. He had no thought as yet of the future. It had been revealed to him in a flash that all was not well in Nora’s life; he had seen something like despair in her face, and knew that she needed the strong hand of a friend. "And I am that—nothing else," he thought as he closed Miles’s door behind him. "No one can blame me if I claim the rights of friendship and help her—no one!" But Captain Robert Arnold, sure of his own honour, forgot that the world, being less honourable, might also be of another opinion. *CHAPTER X* *NEMESIS* It was her at-home day. As she sat there, with her hands clasped listlessly on her lap, it seemed as though in imagination she saw the ghosts of other days arise—days where the little room had been crowded with eager, chattering friends who had come to tell her and each other the latest news of their servants, their husbands or the service, or to be "intellectual," as the case might be. She thought she saw Frau von Seleneck seated on the sofa opposite her, her round, rosy face bright with an irrepressible optimism; she thought she heard the rich, contented chuckle, and felt the maternal pat upon her arm. Then her vision cleared, and the ghosts vanished. The little room was empty of all but shadows, and she was alone. Presently the door of her husband’s study opened. She heard him come towards her, and knew that he was standing at her side; but she did not look up. She felt for the moment too listless, too weary, above all too proud to let him see how deeply her new isolation wounded her. "All alone, dear?" "Yes, all alone." "I thought it was your at-home day?" She tried to laugh. "Yes, so it is. But no one has come, you see." "How is that?" Then she looked up at him. "You know quite well. Everybody hates me." "Nora! That is not true." She nodded. "It is quite true. The Selenecks have taken care that none of my misdeeds should go forgotten. They can’t forgive my—my intimacy with other people, or my nationality." "Your nationality?" She got up with an impetuous, angry movement. "Yes, my nationality." He stood looking at her. A new expression had come into his grave face—an expression of sudden understanding, of indescribable pain. Then he came towards her and put his arm about her shoulders.