At this moment one of the others spoke to him, and Lady Mellifont remarked audibly, as if to correct gently our want of consideration, that Mr. Adney was playing something very beautiful. I had noticed before that she appeared extremely fond of music; she always listened to it in a hushed transport. Vawdrey's attention was drawn away, but it didn't seem to me that the words he had just dropped constituted a definite permission to go to his room. Moreover I wanted to speak to Blanche Adney; I had something to ask her. I had to await my chance, however, as we remained silent awhile for her husband, after which the conversation became general. It was our habit to go to bed early, but there was still a little of the evening left. Before it quite waned I found an opportunity to tell the actress that Vawdrey had given me leave to put my hand on his manuscript. She adjured me, by all I held sacred, to bring it immediately, to give it to her; and her insistence was proof against my suggestion that it would now be too late for him to begin to read: besides which the charm was broken--the others wouldn't care. It was not too late for _her_ to begin; therefore I was to possess myself, without more delay, of the precious pages. I told her she should be obeyed in a moment, but I wanted her first to satisfy my just curiosity. What had happened before dinner, while she was on the hills with Lord Mellifont? "How do you know anything happened?" "I saw it in your face when you came back." "And they call me an actress!" cried Mrs. Adney. "What do they call _me_?" I inquired. "You're a searcher of hearts--that frivolous thing an observer." "I wish you'd let an observer write you a play!" I broke out. "People don't care for what you write: you'd break any run of luck." "Well, I see plays all round me," I declared; "the air is full of them to-night." "The air? Thank you for nothing! I only wish my table-drawers were." "Did he make love to you on the glacier?" I went on. She stared; then broke into the graduated ecstasy of her laugh. "Lord Mellifont, poor dear? What a funny place! It would indeed be the place for _our_ love!" "Did he fall into a crevasse?" I continued. Blanche Adney looked at me again as she had done for an instant when she came up, before dinner, with her hands full of flowers. "I don't know into what he fell. I'll tell you to-morrow." "He did come down, then?" "Perhaps he went up," she laughed. "It's really strange." "All the more reason you should tell me to-night." "I must think it over; I must puzzle it out." "Oh, if you want conundrums I'll throw in another," I said. "What's the matter with the master?" "The master of what?" "Of every form of dissimulation. Vawdrey hasn't written a line." "Go and get his papers and we'll see." "I don't like to expose him," I said. "Why not, if I expose Lord Mellifont?" "Oh, I'd do anything for that," I conceded. "But why should Vawdrey have made a false statement? It's very curious."