She was glad that she no longer suffered; glad that she had lost her passionate love for him in this numbed indifference.  She wondered if he really felt her words, or if he were only pretending.

Once he had pretended to her so well that she had married him; now, as a consequence, she found herself suspecting him at every turn, doubting him whenever he spoke.

The train shot into a tunnel, and Christine caught her breath.  She shrank a little farther away from Jimmy in the darkness, but she need not have feared.  Seeing her instinctive movement he rose at once and walked away to the other side of the carriage.  He hardly spoke to her again till they reached London.

It was late then.  Christine felt tired, and her head ached.  She asked no more questions as to where they were going or what he proposed to do with her.  She followed him into the taxi.  She did not hear what directions he gave to the driver.  It seemed a very little while before they stopped, and Jimmy was holding out his hand to help her to alight.

They went into the hotel together, and for a moment Jimmy left her alone in the wide, empty lounge while he went to make arrangements for her.

She looked round her dully.  The old depression she had known when last she was in London returned.  She hated the silence of the lounge; even the doors seemed to shut noiselessly, and everywhere the carpets were so thick that footsteps were muffled.

Jimmy came back.  He seemed to avoid her eyes.

“I have taken rooms for you; I think you will be comfortable.  Will you—­will you go up now?  I have ordered supper; it will be ready in fifteen minutes.  I will wait here.”

Christine obeyed wearily.  She went up in the lift feeling lonely and depressed.  A kind-faced maid met her on the first landing.  She went with Christine into her bedroom; she unpacked her bag and made the room comfortable for her; she talked away cheerily, almost as if she guessed what a sore heart the girl carried with her.  Christine felt a little comforted as she went downstairs again.

It was nearly eleven o’clock.  A few people were having supper in the room to which she was directed.  Jimmy was there waiting for her.

They sat down together almost silently.

“A second honeymoon!” Gladys Leighton’s words came back to Christine with a sort of mockery.

She looked at her husband.  He was pale and silent.  He only made a pretence of eating; they were both glad when the meal was over.

There was a moment of awkwardness when they rose from the table.

“I am tired,” Christine said when he asked if she would care to go to the drawing-room for a little while.  “I should like to go to bed.”

“Very well.”  Jimmy held out his hand.  “Good night.”  He looked at her and quickly away again.  “I will come round in the morning.”

She raised startled eyes to his face.