"I may add that, if you take my advice, at the earliest possible moment you will have a bath." She moved towards the door. "I am going to try to get some sleep in the spare room." I could not bear to think of her leaving me like that. I called to her, "Lucy." "Well?" "You are hard on me. I have been dining with MacCulloch." "I don't know who MacCulloch may be, but next time you dine with him if you give me warning I will keep a doctor waiting on the premises ready for your return." "Lucy! You would not speak to me like that if you knew all. I am in great trouble." Her tone changed on the instant. She came towards the bed. "Tom! What do you mean!" "I know that I have been a fool, and worse. Even you don't know how great a fool I have been. To-night I have been trying to drown thought." She knelt on the floor beside the bed, stretching out her hands to me across the coverlet. "Tom! You're not playing with me, as they say some husbands do play with their wives? Tell me what you mean?" I found this tone harder to bear than the other. A shudder went all over me. I closed my eyes. What did I mean? How could I tell her? My throat went dry and husky--a condition which was not owing to the potations of the night. "I've been a good husband to you, haven't I? I've tried to be." "My darling, you've been the best husband in the world. That's what makes this seem so strange." She alluded to the events of the night. "Why have you been so silly?" Putting her arms about my neck, she drew me towards her. "You have no conception how silly I have been." She laid her cool cheek against my fevered one. "Tell me all about it. Is it money?" "Money would be nothing." Her voice sank. "What is it?" "It is something which happened last night." I felt her shiver. "I knew it. I felt there was something wrong when you came in, although you would not own there was." "I was afraid to tell you." She drew closer to me. Again her voice dropped to a whisper. "What was it, Tom?" "It was something which happened in the train." I paused. My tongue seemed to stick in my throat. "When we left Brighton a woman got into my carriage." "A woman?" She withdrew herself a little. Then I felt that I could not tell her who the woman was; at least, not then. "She had been drinking. At least, so I suppose. As soon as the train started she began to quarrel." "To quarrel?" "Yes. I was afraid there would be a row. You know the express does not stop between London and Brighton. I did not know whether to pull the alarm-bell or not. I made up my mind to try to leave my carriage and get into the next." "Do you mean while the train was moving?" "Yes. I thought it better to run the risk than to stop the train, and have a scene, and, possibly, a scandal. One never knows what may come of being mixed up in that sort of thing with a woman." "Well?" "She tried to stop me leaving the carriage, and in trying she fell out."