Mrs. Tams smiled.  His amiability was returning, he had done her the honour to tease her.  She departed, all her “things” being ready in the kitchen.  Even before she had gone Louis went quickly upstairs, having drunk less than half a cup of tea, and with extraordinary eagerness plunged into the bedroom and unlocked his private drawer.  He both hoped and feared that the money which he had bestowed there after Julian’s historic visit would have vanished.  It had vanished.

The shock was unpleasant, but the discovery itself had a pleasant side, because it justified the theory which had sprung complete into his mind when he learnt where Rachel had gone, and also because it denuded Rachel of all reasonable claim to consideration.  He had said to himself:  “She has gone off to return half of that money to Julian—­that’s what it is.  And she’s capable of returning all of it to him!” ...  And she had done so.  And she had not consulted him, Louis.  He, then, was a nobody—­zero in the house!  She had deliberately filched the money from him, and to accomplish her purpose she had abstracted his keys, which he had left in his pocket.  She must have stolen the notes several days before, perhaps a week before, when he was really seriously ill.  She had used the keys and restored them to his pocket.  Astounding baseness!

He murmured:  “This finishes it.  This really does finish it.”

He was immensely righteous as he stood alone in the bedroom in front of the rifled drawer.  He was more than righteous—­he was a martyr.  He had done absolutely nothing that was wrong.  He had not stolen money; he had not meant to steal; the more he examined his conduct, the more he was convinced that it had been throughout unexceptionable, whereas the conduct of Rachel ...!  At every point she had sinned.  It was she, not he, who had burnt Mrs. Maldon’s hoard.  Was it not monstrous that a woman should be so careless as to light a fire without noticing that a bundle of notes lay on the top of the coal?  Besides, what affair was it of hers, anyway?  It concerned himself, Mrs. Maldon, and Julian, alone.  But she must needs interfere.  She had not a penny to bless herself with, but he had magnanimously married her; and his reward was her inexcusable interference in his private business.

His accident was due solely to his benevolence for her.  If he had not been wheeling a bicycle procured for her, and on his way to buy her a new bicycle, the accident would never have occurred.  But had she shown any gratitude?  None.  It was true that he had vaguely authorized her to return half of the money replaced by the contrite Julian; but no date for doing so had been fixed, and assuredly she had no pretext whatever for dealing with all of it.  That she should go to Julian Maldon with either the half or the whole of the money without previously informing him and obtaining the ratification of his permission was simply scandalous.  And that she should sneakingly search his pockets for keys, commit a burglary in his drawer, and sneakingly put the keys back was outrageous, infamous, utterly intolerable.