"Shall we finish our game of billiards, Catherine?" he asked, turning
towards her.
"Well--I think not," she answered. "I am a little tired, and it is
almost time the dressing bell rang. I think Sybil and I will go
up-stairs."
They passed away--he made no effort to detain them. He lit a cigarette,
and paced the room impatiently. At last he rang the bell.
"Where is Mr. Brooks?" he asked.
"Mr. Brooks has only just returned, my lord," the man answered. "He
went some distance with the young lady. He has gone direct to his
room."
Lord Arranmore nodded. He threw himself into his easy-chair, and his
head sank upon his hand. He looked steadfastly into the heart of the
red coals.
CHAPTER XIX
THE MARQUIS MEPHISTOPHELES
"I am so sorry," she said, softly, "our last evening is spoilt."
He shook his head with an effort at gaiety.
"Let us conspire," he said. "You and I at least will make a struggle."
"I am afraid," she said, "that it would be hopeless. Mother is an
absolute wreck, and I saw Lord Arranmore go into the library just now
with that terrible white look under his eyes.
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