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That he himself should march up to the Hall and restore the box to Heyton, was impossible. After all, the affair was none of his, and, perhaps, the best thing he could do would be to put the box back in its hiding-place and leave things to work themselves out. He wanted to have nothing more to do with Heyton, or any business of his.
Of course, he pictured her wandering about the wood in the hope of seeing him, and acutely imagined her disappointment. Meanwhile, Heyton returned to the Hall; walking with a certain jauntiness which was not altogether assumed; for the disposal of the jewel-case had been an immense relief.
I should like to see the room at once." "Come on, then," said Heyton. He was quite calm, and was quite proud of being so calm. The Inspector might look at the room as long as he liked; it wouldn't tell him anything of the truth. They went up to the dressing-room, and the Inspector walked straight to the safe and began to look, not at its contents, but along the edge of the door.
He also held out his hand; but Dene, ignoring it, seated himself on the table and, pointing to the chair, said, curtly, but without anger: "Sit down, Heyton. Sit down. Yes; I've come. You didn't expect to see me. You thought you had got rid of me? Well, I'm going right enough; but I wanted a word or two with you first."
As the door closed behind Dene, Heyton sprang towards the bell; his finger touched it, but he did not press it, and, with an oath, he sank into his chair and mopped his face. Five minutes later, the woman whom Celia had seen in the corridor entered the room. She was a pretty, graceful woman, little more than a girl; but the beauty of the face was marred by a weak mouth and chin.
Jacobs gazed round him with approval and admiration. "Beautiful! Beautiful!" he murmured. "Where's this lake Lord Heyton spoke of? I should like to see that. In my opinion, every place of this sort ought to have a bit of water: lends such a charm to the scenery, don't you think, Inspector?" "Oh, yes," assented the Inspector, almost with disgust. "This way."
There are men whose look, when it is bent upon a woman, is an insult; the touch of whose hand is a contamination; and Celia felt that Lord Heyton was one of these men.
If you can't take a hint but it doesn't matter; I'm quite certain that you can't see my father, even if he can be told that you are here." "We will see," said Mr. Clendon. Heyton looked at him for a moment, angrily and a trifle suspiciously; then he swung on his heel and went out. "You must not mind," said Celia. "Lord Heyton is, naturally, very much upset.
I'm going to take this thing upon me; you know why well enough." Heyton shot a glance at him, a glance full of hate and jealousy. "Yes, it's for Miriam's sake," said Dene, quietly, without any sign of emotion. "She and I were pals; nothing had ever come between us until you turned up. She would have married me but for you.
She turned her eyes to Celia, and Celia's heart was made to ache by the look of dumb suffering in them, that look which the weak always wear when the world is going wrong with them. Celia knelt down beside the chair, and took one of the nerveless hands. "Are you better, getting stronger, Lady Heyton?" she asked, gently.
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