ed. Audrey, seeing the change of position, not the
sudden collapse that prompted it, was in despair.

"Won't you leave me alone now, Vincent? Haven't you said enough?"

"Not yet. Let me think a bit."

He leaned back and closed his eyes. He had so much to say, and now he
had no words to say it with.

Audrey looked at the clock; it was half-past four. Would he begin again?
She almost wished he would; it would be better than this silence--better
than that frowning forehead, with the terrible accusing thoughts behind
it. Would no one come? Would he never go?

Hardy had found words and was beginning to rouse himself, when in answer
to her prayer the door was thrown open. Her deliverance had come in the
shape of Langley Wyndham.

Hardy's eyes followed her. A moment before she had sat white and
trembling, shrunk up into herself before the storm of his accusation;
now, for that instant, her face became beautiful as he had never seen it
before. There was something dramatic in her movement as she rose and
went forward to meet Wyndham. There was no mistaking her manner and the
tremor of her voice as she spoke to him. Hardy knew his rival before he
saw him.

"My cousin Mr. Hardy; Mr. Langley Wyndham."

The men looked at each other and bowed stiffly. Wyndham wondered. The
scene they had just gone through had left its mark on Hardy's face and
Audrey's. The student of human nature congratulated himself on the
inspiration which had prompted him to call at this crisis. The cousin
suggested interesting complications in his heroine's life: judging by
the set of his lower jaw, she must have had a bad quarter of an hour
with him. He would have to reconstruct that drama from the fragments
preserved.

When Wyndham sat down, Hardy sat down too. He suspected Audrey of having
invited this man in order to get rid of himself. She wanted him to go. A
savage jealousy made him determined to stay and spoil her pleasure. But
Audrey, with Wyndham beside her, had recovered her presence of mind.
Unable to endure the situation longer, she was about to risk a bold
stroke, by which she would at once revenge herself on Vincent, escape
from the torture of his society, and assure herself of Wyndham's
friendship.

After the preliminary commonplaces, she watched her opportunity till she
could arrest Wyndham's eyes with hers, throwing into their expression
all that she knew of pathos and appeal. Then she rose and held out her
hand to Hardy, saying wit