'A shocking death,' said Roger. 'Terrible for Sheilah. How is she taking it?'
'Perfectly calmly.'
'Shall you go to her?'
'Not immediately, I think.' Then, after another pause in which Cicely lit her cigarette, 'Shall you, Roger?' she inquired.
'Why, I don't know. I hadn't thought. It's all happened so suddenly—so unexpectedly. Do you think she'd want me to? Do you think I should? Not immediately, of course. But a little later. Do you think' he stopped, the full realization of what had happened, and its significance to Sheilah and to him, and perhaps to Cicely, too—breaking over him in a flood. Sheilah in trouble. Sheilah free. But was he free now? He looked sharply at Cicely. How much had he said before she left the room? How much had she suspected?
'Look at me, Cicely.'
She obeyed, calmly, impersonally, through a veil of smoke.
'Do you think I ought to go to Sheilah?'
'There is no reason why you ought not as far as I know,' she replied evenly.
'Do you want me to go?' he persisted, to make sure that he was released, if indeed she had ever imagined him to be bound.
'Of course I do,' lightly she lied, 'if it will make
