The words, meant in explanation, put a finish to Giles' anger. He swung round, and strode blindly away, knocking against the heavy modelling-stand with such force that the bust of Phyllys was hurled to the ground. But he made no pause, and his step could be heard retreating along the passage. Colin sat down, resting his brow on both hands. "What an awful duffer I am!" he murmured. "But nobody knew Giles was coming," ventured Phyllys. "One might have expected it." "I don't see why he is vexed." Silence replied. She knew that, whatever there was to learn, she would not hear it from Colin. "You won't work any more now, will you?" "I don't think I can." Another break. "Had I better go? Mrs. Keith said she would want me." He stood up to open the door, relieved, she thought, at the suggestion. Outside, remembering that she had left a book, she went back, to find Colin flung prone on the sofa. The bust still lay where it had fallen. "Couldn't I get anything for you?" she asked. "Your head is bad!" "Rather! No, nothing I want, thanks. Is that your book? I'll have a lazy hour." Phyllys went again, feeling flat. This was not the manner of meeting with Giles that she had pictured. She was disappointed by his indifference; and his display of temper left an unpleasant impression. Could it be that he objected to Colin making a model of her head? But that would be childish! Why should he mind? CHAPTER XV AN INADVERTENT DISCOVERY IT was one of those links in the chain of life, which present themselves unsought, which at the moment seem unimportant; yet which have a grave bearing upon one's after happiness. Phyllys had no thought of making any discovery; indeed, she did not recognise it as such. Her mind was bent upon the disappointing nature of human friendships; though she did not use such phraseology, but only said to herself that things were "horrid." She was perplexed and uncomfortable; wondering what could have so upset Giles; wishing he would behave like his former self. Little had been seen of him since his arrival. At luncheon he was sombre, and Phyllys treated him with dignity. Colin looked ill, ate nothing, and talked like a machine wound up; and since luncheon he too had been invisible. Between five and six o'clock Phyllys was alone with Mrs. Keith. Rain fell heavily, keeping them in, and keeping callers away. Mrs. Keith knew nothing of the studio scene; but she had noted with dismay Phyllys' bearing at luncheon, towards both Giles and Colin, and she used this opportunity to descant on dear Giles' fine character, the beautiful devotion between him and Colin, and the manner in which, years earlier, he had been wont to deny himself amusement that he might spend hours beside Colin in a darkened room, making time pass for the invalid.