For several minutes Jim Bainbridge ceased from his meditations and coloured the air luridly with the variety and force of his expressions; then he cooled down again, and fell once more into thought. This thing had to be kept from his wife. The fewer the people in possession of the uncomfortable facts the better for the present. There was no need to confess to a cat in the bag until the brute mewed. It wasn't his affair anyway. Suddenly he remembered, with a distinct disinclination to face Esme in the circumstances, that they were dining at the Sinclairs' that night. It was a memorable occasion--the baby's first birthday. A nice sort of birthday surprise he had up his sleeve! "Blast the baby!" he muttered; and immediately felt ashamed of himself. It was most assuredly none of the baby's fault. The case, looked at from any point, looked at all the way round, presented no possible solution to his mind. He had not liked the look in Hallam's eyes when the latter walked out. He did not feel sure of the man, of how he would act, what his purpose was. There was trouble in the air; the atmosphere was heavy with it. He stared out of the window. It was a bright sunny day, hot and clear; it ought to have been thunder weather; and it was not: the thunder was all within--in the minds of men, in Hallam's mind in particular. What was he going to do? Bainbridge kicked the desk in front of him savagely, and got up and put his coat on. If he sat there any longer he would be moved to do something ridiculous. He would go out, walk along the Main Street, and talk with any one he chanced to meet. He must get a grip on himself before he faced Rose, or she would draw the whole thing out of him. And Lord knew what would happen then! For her own sake he wanted to keep his wife in ignorance of this wretched business until secrecy was no longer possible. "There's no sense in unfurling an umbrella before the rain falls," he soliloquised. "There is always a chance that the cloud won't burst." The abstraction of his manner at lunch that day excited general comment. Rose jumped to the conclusion that business was worrying him, and showed immediate concern for the family finances; and so exasperated him that he left the house in a rage and went back to his office in an irritable frame of mind. "The old man's temper is getting a bit frayed at the edges," John observed, with filial candour. "Oh! daddy's all right," said Mary, "if you don't take his little moods seriously. He is always excitable when he is going to a party."