"
"Right?" she faltered.
"The right of loving you--the right of loving you better than any
woman in the world."
There was a queer silence, only partly due, as she was instantly
aware, to the emotion of the moment. A door behind them had opened.
Philippa's quicker senses had recognised her husband's footsteps.
Lessingham rose deliberately to his feet. In his heart he welcomed
the interruption. This might, perhaps, be the decisive moment. Sir
Henry was strolling towards them. His manner and his tone, however,
were alike good-natured.
"I was to order you into the billiard room, Mr. Lessingham," he
announced. "Sinclair has been sent for--a night route march, or
some such horror--and they want you to make a four."
Lessingham hesitated. He had a passionate inclination to face the
situation, to tell this man the truth. Sir Henry's courteous
indifference, however, was like a harrier. He recognised the
inevitable.
"I am afraid I am rather out of practice," he said, "but I shall be
delighted to do my best."
CHAPTER XIV
Sir Henry was obviously not in the best of tempers. For a
mild-mannered and easy-going man, his expression was scarcely normal.
"That fellow was making love to you," he said bluntly, as soon as
the door was closed behind Lessingham.
Philippa looked up at her husband with an air of pleasant candour.
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