. . again. I--I can't bear you to touch me
. . . not now."
She made a wavering step towards the door. He held it open for her,
and in silence she passed out and up the stairs. Presently, from the
landing above, he heard the lock of her bedroom door click into its
socket. . . .
CHAPTER XX
THE SHADOW FALLS
Breakfast, the following morning, was something of an ordeal. Neither
Max nor Diana spoke to each other if speech could be avoided, and, when
this was impossible, they addressed each other with a frigid politeness
that was more painful than the silence.
Jerry and Joan, sensing the antagonism in the atmosphere, endeavoured
to make conversation, but their efforts received scant encouragement,
and both were thankful when the meal came to an end, and they were free
to seek refuge in another room, leaving husband and wife alone together.
Diana glanced a trifle nervously at her husband as the door closed
behind them. There was a coldness, an aloofness about him, that
reminded her vividly of the early days of their acquaintanceship, when
his cool indifference of manner had set a barrier between them which
her impulsive girlhood had been powerless to break through.
"Will you spare me a few minutes in my study?" he said. His face was
perfectly impassive; only the peculiar brilliancy of his eyes spoke of
the white-hot anger he was holding in leash.
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