Page:The Yellow Book - 01.djvu/251

By Hubert Crackanthorpe She looked at him, surprised, in spite of herself. She would never have thought he'd have done it like that. He was a good sort, after all. But she didn't know why she broke out furiously:

&quot;You infernal liar! I know. I shall be done for by the end of February—ha! ha!&quot;

Seizing a vase of flowers, she flung it into the grate. The crash and the shrivelling of the leaves in the flames brought her an instant's relief. Then she said quietly:

&quot;There—I've made an idiot of myself; but&quot; (weakly) &quot;I didn't know—I didn't know—I thought it was different.&quot;

He hesitated, embarrassed by his own emotion. Presently he went up to her and put his hands round her cheeks.

&quot;No,&quot; she said, &quot;that's no good, I don't want that. Get me something to drink. I feel bad.&quot;

He hurried to the cupboard and fumbled with the cork of a champagne bottle. It flew out with a bang. She started violently.

&quot;You clumsy fool!&quot; she exclaimed.

She drank off the wine at a gulp.

&quot;Daisy,&quot; he began.

She was staring stonily at the empty glass.

&quot;Daisy,&quot; he repeated.

She tapped her toe against the fender-rail.

At this sign, he went on :

&quot;How did you know?&quot;

&quot;I sent Liz to listen,&quot; she answered mechanically.

He looked about him, helpless. "I think I'll smoke,&quot; he said feebly. She made no answer. &quot;Here, put the glass down,&quot; she said. He