Page:The Other House (London, William Heinemann, 1896), Volume 1.djvu/88

74 Dennis was silent a little: he had now unfolded his letter and run his eyes over it. "What a funny subject for him to be talking about!"

"With me, do you mean?"

"Yes, and with his wife."

"My dear man," Rose exclaimed, "you can imagine he didn't begin it!"

"Did you?" her companion asked.

She hesitated again, and then, "Yes—idiot!" she replied with a quiet humour that produced, on his part, another demonstration of tenderness. This attempt she arrested, raising her hand, as she appeared to have heard a sound, with a quick injunction to listen.

"What's the matter?"

[sic]"She bent her ear. "Wasn't there a cry from Julia's room?"

"I heard nothing."

Rose was relieved. "Then it's only my nervousness."

Dennis Vidal held up his letter. "Is your nervousness too great to prevent your giving a moment's attention to this?"

"Ah, your letter!" Rose's eyes rested on it as