Mrs. Decie signalled with her fan: "We are trying to express the
inexpressible--shall we go into the garden?"

All rose; Harz stood by the window, and in passing, Christian looked at
him.

He sat down again with a sudden sense of loss. There was no white
figure opposite now. Raising his eyes he met Sarelli's. The Italian was
regarding him with a curious stare.

Herr Paul began retailing apiece of scandal he had heard that afternoon.

"Shocking affair!" he said; "I could never have believed it of her!
B---is quite beside himself. Yesterday there was a row, it seems!"

"There has been one every day for months," muttered Dawney.

"But to leave without a word, and go no one knows where! B---is 'viveur'
no doubt, mais, mon Dieu, que voulez vous? She was always a poor,
pale thing. Why! when my---" he flourished his cigar; "I was not
always---what I should have been---one lives in a world of flesh and
blood---we are not all angels---que diable! But this is a very vulgar
business. She goes off; leaves everything---without a word; and B---is
very fond of her. These things are not done!" the starched bosom of his
shirt seemed swollen by indignation.

Mr. Treffry, with a heavy hand on the table, eyed him sideways. Dawney
said slowly: