She gave a little gasp and came to me, holding out her
hand.
"You were always as good as your word, Roddy. Come into the library.
Where are you sleeping, by the way?"
"In my flat," said I. "Jephson will not be called up for a day or
two. He has a fire lit, and will sit up for me."
"He may have to sit up late," replied Constantia. "Mamma will be
down presently. . . . There has been something of a scene, and she is
upset. You saw Mr. Farrell go away, just now? You must have passed
him, almost at the door."
"I did," said I, "though I don't know if he recognised me.
Child, what is the matter?"
"Child?" echoed Constantia. "It does me good to be called that, for
that's exactly how I am feeling. . . . He had no right--no right--"
and there she broke off.
"Do you mean," said I, "that he put that announcement in the _Times_
having no _right_ to do it?"
"I dare say," moaned Constantia, waving her arms feebly,
pathetically, "he understood more than I meant him to."
"Let us be practical, please," said I, becoming extremely stern.
"Have you, or have you not, engaged yourself to marry Farrell?"
"Certainly I have not," she answered with vivacity.
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