"I must go out," he said, slowly. "I must go now--at once."
His voice was hard.
Eve's surprised, concerned eyes still searched his. "Now
--at once?" she repeated. "Now--without breakfast?"
"I'm not hungry." He rose from his seat, and, carrying the
slips of paper across the room, dropped them into the fire.
He did it, not so much from caution, as from an imperative
wish to do something, to move, if only across the room.
Eve's glance followed him. "Is it bad news?" she asked,
anxiously. It was unlike her to be insistent, but she was
moved to the impulse by the peculiarity of the moment.
"No," he said shortly. "It's--business. This was written
yesterday; I should have got it last night."
Her eyes widened. "But nobody does business at eight in the
morning--" she began, in astonishment; then she suddenly broke
off.
Without apology or farewell, Loder had left the fireplace and
walked out of the room.
He passed through the hall hurriedly, picking up a hat as he
went; and, reaching the pavement outside, he went straight
forward until Grosvenor Square was left behind; then he ran.
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