it!" she cried in malicious
triumph.

"The sort of thing runs in the family, then." She started at the
plainness of his sneer. "Oh, yes, that was it. Well, what would your
answer be? Shall I tell you? You'd ask the first man who came by to kick
me out of the room. And you'd be right."

The truth of his words pierced her. She flushed red, but she was
resolved to admit nothing. Before him, at any rate, she would cling to
her case, to the view of her own action to which she stood committed. He
at least should never know that now at last he had made her bitterly and
horribly ashamed, with a shame not for what she had proposed to do
herself, but for what she had dared to ask him to do. She saw the thing
now as he saw it. Had his manner softened, had he made any appeal, had
he not lashed her with the bitterest words he could find, she would have
been in tears at his feet. But now she faced him so boldly that he took
her flush to mean anger. He turned away from her and picked up his hat
from the chair on which he had thrown it.

"Well, that's all, isn't it?" he asked.

Before she had time to answer, there was a cry from the doorway, full of
astonishment, consternation, and (it must be added) outraged propriety.
For it was past two o'clock and Mina Zabriska, for all her freakishness,
had been bred on strict lines of decorum. "Cecily!" she cried. "And
you!" she added a moment later. They turned and saw her standing there
in her dressing-gown, holding a candle. The sudden turn of events, the
introduction of this new figure, the intrusion that seemed so absurd,
overcame Cecily. She sank back in her chair, and laid her head on her
hands on the table, laughing hysterically. Harry's frown grew heavier.

"Oh, you're there?" he said to Mina. "You're in it too, I suppose? I've
always had the misfortune to interest you, haven't I? You wanted to turn
me out first. Now you're trying to put me in again, are you? Oh, you
women, can't you leave a man alone?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. And what are you doing here? Do
you know it's half-past two?"

"It would be all the same to me if it was half-past twenty-two," said
Harry contemptuously.

"You've been with her all the time?"

"Oh, lord, yes. Are you the chaperon?" He laughed, as he unceremoniously
clapped his hat on his head. "We've had an evening out, my cousin and I,
and I saw her home. And now I'm going home. Nothing wrong, I hope,
Madame Zabriska?"

Cecily rais