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The spell of the singer was felt in the utter silence that followed. Wingarde's eyes never left his companion's face. But the girl had turned from him. She was listening, rapt and eager. She had forgotten his very presence at her side. As the last passionate note thrilled into silence she drew a long breath. Her eyes were full of tears.
You will be home by midnight, I suppose?" Archie made an abrupt movement. For a second he hovered on the verge of an indignant outburst. The man's manner, rather than his words, was insufferable. But in that second he met Wingarde's eyes, and something he saw there checked him. He pulled himself together and somewhat awkwardly took his leave.
Nina's pride or her courage shrank from any expression of gratitude. In the afternoon with intense thankfulness she travelled southward. Never were London smoke and dust more welcome. They went straight to Wingarde's great house in Crofton Square. Dinner was served immediately upon their arrival. "I must ask you to excuse me," Wingarde said, directly dessert was placed upon the table.
You can kick me out of the house as soon as you like. But you won't find it so easy to forget what I've said. You know in your heart that it's the truth." Archie ended his vigorous speech with the full expectation of being made to pay the penalty by means of a damaged skin. Wingarde's face was uncompromising. It told nothing of his mood during the heavy silence that followed.
Someone took the frenzied girl by the shoulders and forced her to relinquish her clutch. She turned and looked straight into Wingarde's face, and at the sight her nerves gave way and she broke into hysterical sobbing, though she knew that he was safe. He put his arm around her and led her from the stifling tent. People made way for them. Only their hostess and Archie Neville followed.
"I hope you won't allow my presence to interfere with any plans you may have made for to-night's amusement," he remarked. "I shall be obliged to go out myself after dinner." Archie drew himself up. Wingarde's tone stung. "You are very good," he said stiffly. "What do you say, Nina? Do you feel up to the theatre?" Nina's colour also was very high. But her eyes looked softer than usual.
"You wish to take me to task?" he asked. "I do," said Archie decidedly. "For what in particular? The innocent deception practised upon an equally innocent public? Or for something more serious than that?" There was an unmistakable ring of sternness behind Wingarde's deliberately scoffing tone. Archie answered him instantly, with the quickness of a man who fights for his honour.
Wingarde, who came to see the boy who was knocked down by a hansom last week. Madam, this is Dr. Wade." She went forward to lift the child out of Wingarde's arms. There followed a silence, a brief, hard-strung silence. Nina stood quite still. Her hands were unconsciously clasped together. She was white to the lips. But she kept her eyes raised to Wingarde's face.
Outside on the lawn, away from the buzzing multitude, Nina began to recover herself. Archie brought a chair, and she dropped into it, but she held fast to Wingarde's arm, beseeching him over and over again not to leave her. Wingarde stooped over her, supporting her; but he found nothing to say to her.
"I will do all that is necessary here. Neville, take my wife home! The car is close at hand in Fenwick Street." "He isn't dead?" faltered Nina shakily. "No certainly not." Wingarde's voice was confident. He turned from her to speak to a policeman; and Nina yielded to Archie's hand on her arm. She was more upset than she had realized. Neither of them spoke during the drive westwards.
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