The clumsy figure of Horrocks came forward out of the shadow.
He made no answer to Raut's remark. For a moment he stood above
them.
The woman's heart was cold within her. "I told Mr. Raut it
was just possible you might come back," she said, in a voice that
never quivered.
Horrocks, still silent, sat down abruptly in the chair by her
little work-table. His big hands were clenched; one saw now the
fire of his eyes under the shadow of his brows. He was trying to
get his breath. His eyes went from the woman he had trusted to the
friend he had trusted, and then back to the woman.
By this time and for the moment all three half understood one
another. Yet none dared say a word to ease the pent-up things that
choked them.
It was the husband's voice that broke the silence at last.
"You wanted to see me?" he said to Raut.
Raut started as he spoke. "I came to see you," he said,
resolved to lie to the last.
"Yes," said Horrocks.
"You promised," said Raut, "to show me some fine effects of
moonlight and smoke."
"I promised to show you some fine effects of moonlight and
smoke," repeated Horrocks in a colourless voice.
"And I thought I might catch you to-night before you went down
to the works," proceeded Raut, "and come with you."
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