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PAGE 10

The Deliverer
by [?]

“Thank you,” she said gently. “Well, you will come to-morrow?”

“Of course,” he said. “What theatre shall we go to? I’ll bring the tickets with me.”

The conversation drifted away into indifferent topics and presently they parted. Nina was almost gay of heart as she drove homeward that night. She had begun to feel her loneliness very keenly, and Archie’s society promised to be of value.

Her husband was waiting for her when she returned. As she entered her own sitting-room, he started up abruptly from an arm-chair as if her entrance had suddenly roused him from sleep. She was considerably surprised to see him there, for he had never before intruded without her permission.

He glanced at the clock, but made no comment upon the lateness of the hour.

“I hope you have enjoyed yourself,” he said somewhat formally.

The words were as unexpected as was his presence there. Nina stood for a moment, waiting for something further.

Then, as he did not speak, she shrugged her shoulders and threw back her cloak.

“It was a tremendous crush,” she said indifferently. “No, I didn’t enjoy it particularly. But it was something to do.”

“I am sorry you are feeling bored,” he said gravely.

Nina sat down in silence. She did not in the least understand what had brought him there.

“It is getting rather late,” she remarked, after a pause. “I am just going to have a cup of tea and then go to bed.”

A little tea-tray stood on the table at her elbow. A brass kettle was fizzing cheerily above a spirit stove.

“Do you want a cup?” she asked, with a careless glance upwards.

He had remained standing, looking down at her with an expression that puzzled her slightly. His eyes were heavy, as if they wanted sleep.

“Thank you,” he said.

Nina threw off her wraps and sat up to brew the tea. The light from a rose-shaded lamp poured full upon her. She looked superb and she knew it. The knowledge deprived her for once of that secret sense of fear that so brooded at the back of her intercourse with this man. He stood in total silence behind her. She began to wonder what was coming.

Having made tea, she leant back again with her hands behind her head.

“I suppose we must give it two minutes to draw,” she remarked, with a smothered yawn. “Isn’t it frightfully hot to-night? I believe there is thunder about.”

He made no response, and she turned her eyes slowly upon him. She knew he was watching her, but a curious sense of independence possessed her that night. He did not disconcert her.

Their eyes met. Hers were faintly insolent. His were inscrutable.

At last he spoke.

“I am sorry you have not enjoyed yourself,” he said, speaking rather stiffly. “Will you–by way of a change–come out with me to-morrow night? I think I may anyhow promise you”–he paused slightly–“that you shall not be bored.”

There was a short silence. Nina turned and moved the cups on the little tray. She did not, however, seem embarrassed.

“I happen to be engaged to-morrow evening,” she said coldly at length.

“Is it important?” he asked. “Can’t you cancel the engagement?”

She uttered a little, flippant laugh. She had not hoped for such an opportunity as this.

“I’m afraid I really can’t,” she said. “You should have asked me earlier.”

“What are you going to do?”

There was a new note in his voice–a hint of mastery. She resented it instantly.

“That is my affair,” she said calmly, beginning to pour out the tea.

He looked at her as if he scarcely believed his ears. He was silent for some seconds, and very quietly she turned to him and handed him a cup.

He took it from her and instantly set it aside.

“Be good enough to answer my question!” he said.

She heard the gathering sternness in his tone, and, tea-cup in hand, she laughed. A curious recklessness possessed her that night. She felt as if she had the strength to fling off the bands of tyranny. But her heart had begun to beat very fast. She realized that this was no mere skirmish.