At this moment Rachel came into the parlour, apparently fully dressed. Her eyes were red, but her self-control was complete. Julian glared at Louis as at a trapped liar. "I thought ye said she was in bed." "She was," said Louis. He could find nothing to say to his wife. Rachel nonchalantly held out her hand. "So you've come," she said. "Aye!" said Julian gruffly, and served Rachel's hand as he had served Louis'. She winced without concealment. "Was it you we saw going down Moorthorne Road to-night?" she asked. "It was," said Julian, looking at the carpet. "Well, why didn't you come in then?" "I couldn't make up my mind, if you must know." "Aren't you going to sit down?" Julian sat down. Louis reflected that women were astonishing and incalculable, and the discovery seemed to him original, even profound. Imagine her tackling Julian in this fashion, with no preliminaries! She might have seen Julian last only on the previous day! The odalisque had vanished in this chill and matter-of-fact housewife. "And why were you at the 'Three Tuns'?" she went on. Julian replied with extraordinary bitterness-- "I was at the 'Three Tuns' because I was at the 'Three Tuns.'" "I see you've grown a beard," said Rachel. "Happen I have," said Julian. "But what I say is, I've got something to tell you two. I've written it all down and I thought to post it to ye. But after I'd written it I says to myself, 'I'll tell 'em face to face or I'll die for it.'" "Is it about that money?" Rachel inquired. "Aye!" "Then Mr. Batchgrew did write and tell you about it. Won't you take that great, thick overcoat off?" Julian jumped up as if in fury, pulled off the overcoat with violent gestures, and threw in on the Chesterfield. Then he sat down again, and, sticking out his chin, stared inimically at Louis. Louis' throat was now so tight that he was nervously obliged to make the motion of swallowing. He could look neither at Rachel nor at Julian. He was nonplussed. He knew not what to expect nor what he feared. He could not even be sure that what he feared was an accusation. "I am safe. I am safe," he tried to repeat to himself, deeply convinced, nevertheless, against his reason, that he was not safe. The whole scene, every aspect of it, baffled and inexpressibly dismayed him. Julian still stared, with mouth open, threatening. Then he slapped his knee. "Nay!" said he. "I shall read it to ye." And he drew some sheets of foolscap from his pocket. He opened the sheets, and frowned at them, and coughed. "Nay!" said he. "There's nothing else for it. I must smoke." And he produced a charred pipe which might or might not have been the gift of Mrs. Maldon, filled it, struck a match on his boot, and turbulently puffed outrageous quantities of smoke. Louis, with singular courage, lit a cigarette, which gave him a little ease of demeanour, if not confidence. II And then at length Julian began to read--