“I know it,” she admitted, “but I am also a woman, and there are limits to my endurance. If you can give me no explanation of your behaviour, Henry, if you really have no intention of changing it, then there is only one course left open for me.” “That sounds rather alarming--what is it?” he demanded. Philippa lifted her head a little. This was the pronouncement towards which she had been leading. “From to-day,” she declared, “I cease to be your wife.” His fingers paused in the manipulation of the tobacco with which he was filling his pipe. He turned and looked at her. “You what?” “I cease to be your wife.” “How do you manage that?” he asked. “Don't jest,” she begged. “It hurts me so. What I mean is surely plain enough. I will continue to live under your roof if you wish it, or I am perfectly willing to go back to Wood Norton. I will continue to bear your name because I must, but the other ties between us are finished.” “You don't mean this, Philippa,” he said gravely. “But I do mean it,” she insisted. “I mean every word I have spoken. So far as I am concerned, Henry, this is your last chance.” There was a knock at the door. Mills entered with a note upon a salver. Sir Henry took it up, glanced questioningly at his wife, and tore open the envelope. “There will be no answer, Mills,” he said. The man withdrew. Sir Henry read the few lines thoughtfully:-- Police-station, Dreymarsh SIR, According to enquiries made I find that Mr. Hamar Lessingham arrived at the Hotel this evening in time for dinner. His luggage arrived by rail yesterday. It is presumed that he came by motor-car, but there is no car in the garage, nor any mention of one. His room was taken for him by Miss Fairclough, ringing up for Lady Cranston about seven o'clock. Respectfully yours, JOHN HAYLOCK. “Is your note of interest?” Philippa enquired. “In a sense, yes,” he replied, thrusting it into his waistcoat pocket. “I presume we can consider our late subject of conversation finished with?” “I have nothing more to say,” she pronounced. “Very well, then,” her husband agreed, “let us select another topic. This time, supposing I choose?” “You are welcome.” “Let us converse, then, about Mr. Hamar Lessingham.” Philippa had taken up her work. Her fingers ceased their labours, but she did not look up. “About Mr. Hamar Lessingham,” she repeated. “Rather a limited subject, I am afraid.” “I am not so sure,” he said thoughtfully. “For instance, who is he?” “I have no idea,” she replied. “Does it matter? He was at college with Richard, and he has been a visitor at Wood Norton. That is all that we know. Surely it is sufficient for us to offer him any reasonable hospitality?”