This
was not the case however--he rather seemed already at work, to have
been at work since dawn. But he was very white and his eyes had a
strange and new expression. Her beautiful young brother looked
older; he looked haggard and hard. He met her there as if he had
been waiting for her, and he said at once: "Please tell me this,
Adela--what was the purpose of your visit the other morning to Mrs.
Churchley, the day I met you at her door?"
She stared--she cast about. "The purpose? What's the matter? Why
do you ask?"
"They've put it off--they've put it off a month."
"Ah thank God!" said Adela.
"Why the devil do you thank God?" Godfrey asked with a strange
impatience.
She gave a strained intense smile. "You know I think it all wrong."
He stood looking at her up and down. "What did you do there? How
did you interfere?"
"Who told you I interfered?" she returned with a deep flush.
"You said something--you did something. I knew you had done it when
I saw you come out."
"What I did was my own business."
"Damn your own business!" cried the young man.
She had never in her life been so spoken to, and in advance, had she
been given the choice, would have said that she'd rather die than be
so handled by Godfrey. But her spirit was high, and for a moment she
was as angry as if she had been cut with a whip. She escaped the
blow but felt the insult. "And YOUR business then?" she asked. "I
wondered what that was when I saw YOU.
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