temper to see Anne's eyes flash sudden interrogation at Nap's serenely
smiling countenance, though he did not suspect the meaning of her glance.

"I am not in favour of the scheme," he said shortly, as Nap ended.

Nap slightly raised his brows. "No? I understood otherwise."

The blood mounted to Sir Giles's forehead. "Either you were misinformed
or your intelligence is at fault," he said, with that in his voice that
was so nearly an open insult that, for a second, even Nap looked
dangerous.

Then quite quietly, without raising her eyes, Anne intervened. "I think
you ought to explain to Mr. Errol, Giles, that you have only recently
changed your mind."

Sir Giles rounded on her malignantly. "What the devil has that to do with
it, or with you, for that matter? Do you think I don't know my own mind?
Do you think--"

"I know exactly what Lady Carfax thinks," cut in Nap, moving deliberately
so that he stood directly between Sir Giles and the tea-table. His back
was turned to Anne, and he kept it so. "And in the main, I agree with
her, though my sentiments are a little stronger than hers. I'll tell you
exactly what they are some day. I think you would be interested, or at
least not bored. But with regard to this Town Hall suggestion, what's
wrong with it, anyway? Couldn't you come over and talk it out with my
brother? He isn't well enough just now to come to you."

The coolness of this speech took effect. Sir Giles glared for a few
moments till the speaker's steady regard became too much for him. Then,
with a lurching movement, he turned away.

"No, I won't visit your brother! Why the deuce should I? Do you think I
belong to the rag, tag, and bobtail, that'll mix with the very scum of
society so long as there's money about? Do you think I'd lower myself to
associate with fellows like you?"

"I guess you'd find it difficult," drawled Nap.

He still stood with his back to the tea-table. He seemed to have
forgotten the woman who sat so rigid behind him. His fingers drummed a
careless tattoo upon the table-edge. He was unquestionably master of the
situation, and that without much apparent effort.

And Sir Giles knew it, knew himself to be worsted, and that in his
wife's presence. He glanced at her through eyes narrowed to evil slits.
Her very impassivity goaded him. It seemed in some fashion to express
contempt. With violence he strode to the bell and pealed it vigorously.

On the instant Nap turned. "So long, Lady