"On the other hand, don't
let's run any risk. I should hate to find an affinity, and all that sort
of thing, after marriage--divorce in these days is such shocking bad
form. Besides, honestly, Nigel, I don't feel frivolous enough to think
about marriage just now. I have the feeling that even while the clock is
ticking we are moving on to terrible things. I can't tell you quite what
it is. I carried my life in my hands during those last few days abroad.
I dare say this is the reaction."
He smiled reassuringly.
"After all, you are safe at home now, dear," he reminded her, "and I
really am very fond of you, Maggie."
"And I'm quite absurdly fond of you, Nigel," she acknowledged. "It makes
me feel quite uncomfortable when I reflect that I shall probably have to
order you to make love to some one else before the week is out."
"I shall do nothing of the sort," he declared firmly. "I am not good at
that sort of thing. And who is she, anyhow?"
They were interrupted by a sudden knock at the door--not the discreet
tap of a well-bred domestic, but a flurried, almost an imperative
summons. Before either of them could reply, the door was opened and
Brookes, the elderly butler, presented himself upon the threshold. Even
before he spoke, it was clear that he brought alarming news.
"Will you step down to the library at once, sir?" he begged, addressing
Nigel.
"What is the matter, Brookes?" Maggie demanded anxiously.
"I fear that his lordship is not well," the man replied.
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