Mrs Lawford’s attitude intensified in its stillness. ‘Now, speaking quite frankly, what is it in you suggests these remarks at such a time? That’s what baffles me. It seems so childish, so needlessly blind.’ ‘I am very sorry, Sheila, to be so childish. But I’m not, say what you like, blind. You _are_ pretty: I’d repeat it if I was burning at the stake.’ Sheila lowered her eyes softly on to the rich-toned picture in the glass. ‘Supposing,’ she said, watching her lips move, ‘supposing—of course, I know you are getting better and all that—but supposing you don’t change back as Mr Bethany thinks, what will you do? Honestly, Arthur, when I think over it calmly, the whole tragedy comes back on me with such a force it sweeps me off my feet; I am for the moment scarcely my own mistress. What would you do?’ ‘I think, Sheila,’ replied a low, infinitely weary voice, ‘I think I should marry again.’ It was the same wavering, faintly ironical voice that had slightly discomposed Dr Simon that same morning. ‘“Marry again”!’ exclaimed incredulously the full lips in the looking-glass. ‘Who?’ ‘_You_, dear!’ Sheila turned softly round, conscious in a most humiliating manner that she had ever so little flushed. Her husband was pouring out his tea, unaware, apparently, of her change of position. She watched him curiously. In spite of all her reason, of her absolute certainty, she wondered even again for a moment if this really could be Arthur. And for the first time she realised the power and mastery of that eager and far too hungry face. Her mind seemed to pause, fluttering in air, like a bird in the wind. She hastened rather unsteadily to the door. ‘Will you want anything more, do you think, for an hour?’ she asked. Her husband looked up over his little table. ‘Is Alice going with you?’ ‘Oh yes; poor child, she looks so pale and miserable. We are going to Mrs Sherwin’s, and then on to Church. You will lock your door?’ ‘Yes, I will lock my door.’ ‘And I do hope Arthur—nothing rash!’ A change, that seemed almost the effect of actual shadow, came over his face. ‘I wish you could stay with me,’ he said slowly. ‘I don’t think you have any idea what—what I go through.’ It was as if a child had asked on the verge of terror for a candle in the dark. But an hour’s terror is better than a lifetime of timidity. Sheila sighed. ‘I think,’ she said, ‘I too might say that. But there; giving way will do nothing for either of us. I shall be gone only for an hour, or two at the most. And I told Mr Bethany I should have to come out before the sermon: it’s only Mr Craik.’ ‘But why Mrs Sherwin? She’d worm a secret out of one’s grave.’ ‘It’s useless to discuss that, Arthur; you have always consistently disliked my friends. It’s scarcely likely that you would find any improvement in them now.’ ‘Oh, well—’ he began. But the door was already closed. ‘Sheila!’ he called in a burst of anger. ‘Well, Arthur?’ ‘You have taken my latchkey.’