The light of a candle shone through the door of the museum, and the shuffling steps came nearer. Then I saw a face in the doorway, a great, heavy face, all lines and creases, with a huge curving nose, and a pair of gold glasses fixed across it. He had to throw his head back to see through the glasses, and that great nose thrust out in front of him like the beak of some sort of fowl. He was a big man, very tall and burly, so that in his loose dressing-gown his figure seemed to fill up the whole doorway. He had a pile of grey, curling hair all round his head, but his face was clean-shaven. His mouth was thin and small and prim, hidden away under his long, masterful nose. He stood there, holding the candle in front of him, and looking at his wife with a queer, malicious gleam in his eyes. It only needed that one look to tell me that he was as fond of her as she was of him. “How’s this?” he asked. “Some new tantrum? What do you mean by wandering about the house? Why don’t you go to bed?” “I could not sleep,” she answered. She spoke languidly and wearily. If she was an actress once, she had not forgotten her calling. “Might I suggest,” said he, in the same mocking kind of voice, “that a good conscience is an excellent aid to sleep?” “That cannot be true,” she answered, “for you sleep very well.” “I have only one thing in my life to be ashamed of,” said he, and his hair bristled up with anger until he looked like an old cockatoo. “You know best what that is. It is a mistake which has brought its own punishment with it.” “To me as well as to you. Remember that!” “You have very little to whine about. It was I who stooped and you who rose.” “Rose!” “Yes, rose. I suppose you do not deny that it is a promotion to exchange the music-hall for Mannering Hall. Fool that I was ever to take you out of your true sphere!” “If you think so, why do you not separate?” “Because private misery is better than public humiliation. Because it is easier to suffer for a mistake than to own to it. Because also I like to keep you in my sight, and to know that you cannot go back to him.” “You villain! You cowardly villain!” “Yes, yes, my lady. I know your secret ambition, but it shall never be while I live, and if it happens after my death I will at least take care that you go to him as a beggar. You and dear Edward will never have the satisfaction of squandering my savings, and you may make up your mind to that, my lady. Why are those shutters and the window open?” “I found the night very close.” “It is not safe. How do you know that some tramp may not be outside? Are you aware that my collection of medals is worth more than any similar collection in the world? You have left the door open also. What is there to prevent any one from rifling the cases?” “I was here.” “I know you were. I heard you moving about in the medal room, and that was why I came down. What were you doing?” “Looking at the medals. What else should I be doing?”