At nine he set out to walk over to Southlook, realising that he should
have to spend an hour in profitless gossip with the lodge-keeper
before presenting himself at the villa, but somehow relishing the
thought that even so he would be nearer to Hetty than if he remained
in his own door-yard.
Half-way there he was overtaken by Sara's big French machine returning
from the village. The car came to a standstill as he stepped aside
to let it pass, and Sara herself leaned over and cordially invited
him to get in and ride home with her.
"What an early bird you are," he exclaimed as he took his seat
beside her.
She was not in a mood for airy persiflage, as he soon discovered.
"Miss Castleton has gone up to town, Mr. Booth," she said rather
lifelessly. "I have just taken her to the station. She caught the
eight-thirty."
He was at once solicitous. "No bad news, I hope?" There was no
thought in his mind that her absence was other than temporary.
"She is not coming back, Brandon." She had not addressed him as
Brandon before.
He stared. "You--you mean--" The words died on his lips.
"She is not coming back," she repeated.
An accusing gleam leaped into his eyes.
"What has happened, Mrs. Wrandall?" he asked.
She was quick to perceive the change in his voice and manner.
"She prefers to live apart from me.
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