"He has done it before. I liked it." "He did it very well," said Rupert. "Inspired, I should think. Will you have a cigarette?" "Will it make me sick?" "Try it. But why do we find you entertaining the moorland rake?" She was absurd with the cigarette between her lips, and she asked mumblingly as Rupert held the match, "Why do you call him that?" Rupert spread his hands. "He has a reputation." "And he deserves it," said John. She took the cigarette and many little pieces of tobacco from her mouth. "Before you go any further, I think I had better tell you that I am married to him." "Good God!" John said, in a conversational tone. There was a pause that threatened to be everlasting. "Helen, dear, did you say 'married to him'?" "Yes, I did." Rupert lighted one cigarette from another and carefully threw the old one into the fire. "When?" John asked. He was still staring at her. "I forget the date." "Won't you tell us about it?" Rupert said. He leaned against the mantelpiece and puffed quickly. "There's nothing more to tell." "But when was it?" John persisted. "Oh--about a month, six weeks, ago. The paper is upstairs, but one forgets." "Wants to?" "I didn't say so, did I? Notya is not to know." "And Zebedee?" "Of course he knows." Rupert was frowning on her with a troubled look, and she knew he was trying to understand, that he was anxious not to hurt her. "I'm damned if I understand it," John muttered. Her lips had a set smile. "I'm sure," she said lightly, "you'll never be damned for that. I'm afraid I can't explain, but Zebedee knows everything." They found nothing else to say: John turned away, at last, and busied himself uneasily with his pipe: Rupert's cigarette became distasteful, and, throwing it after the other, he drove his hands into his pockets and watched it burn. "I suppose we ought to have congratulated George," he said, and looked grieved at the omission. Helen laughed on a high note, and though she knew she was disclosing her own trouble by that laughter, she could not stay it. "Oh, Rupert, don't!" "My dear, I know it's funny, but I meant it. I wish I could marry you myself." She laughed again and waved them both away. "Go and see Notya. She may not be asleep." When John came downstairs, he looked through the kitchen door and said good-night; then he advanced and kissed her. She could not remember when he had last done that, and it was, she thought, as though he kissed the dead. He patted her arm awkwardly. "Good-night, child." "Don't worry," she said, steadying her lips. "Is there anything we can do?" "Be nice to George." "Oh, I've got to be." "John, I wish you wouldn't talk as if he's--bad." "I didn't mean to set myself up as judge, but I never liked him." "But I like him," she said. "Go home and tell Lily. I'm afraid she'll lie awake all night!" "What a family this is!" "Once, I might have said that to you. I didn't, John." "But we are a success."