Shall we clear this little table?"
"Yes. It's just the right size. It might do for three people, but
certainly not for more."
"There! Now, then."
And, as the clock struck twelve, Valentine turned off the electric
light, and they sat down with their hands upon the table. The room was
only very dimly illuminated by the fire on the hearth, where Rip slept
on, indifferent to their proceedings.
"I suppose nothing could go wrong," Julian said, after a moment of
silence.
"Wrong!"
"Yes. I don't know exactly what Marr meant, but he said that if
unsuitable people sit together any amount of harm can result from it."
"What sort of harm?"
"I don't know."
"H'm! I expect that is all nonsense, like the rest of his remarks.
Anyhow, Julian, no two people could ever hit it off better than you
and I do. Wait a second."
He jumped up and drew the curtain over the door. Wade had pulled it back
when he came in.
"I must have that curtain altered," Valentine said. "It is so badly
hung that whenever the door is opened, it falls half way back, and
looks hideous. That is better."
He sat down again.
"We won't talk," he said.
"No. We'll give the--whatever it is every chance."
They were silent.
Presently--it might have been a quarter of an hour--Julian said suddenly:
"Do you feel anything?"
"'M--no," Valentine answered, rather doubtfully.
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