He worked faster as the
footsteps drew nearer; and the blood throbbed in
his temples and roared in his ears. Quicker--
quicker! Oh, God! five minutes more!
There was a knock at the door. The strip of
torn stuff dropped from his hands, and he sat quite
still, holding his breath to listen. The handle of
the door was tried; then Julia's voice called:
"Arthur!"
He stood up, panting.
"Arthur, open the door, please; we are waiting."
He gathered up the torn counterpane, threw it
into a drawer, and hastily smoothed down the
bed.
"Arthur!" This time it was James who called,
and the door-handle was shaken impatiently.
"Are you asleep?"
Arthur looked round the room, saw that everything
was hidden, and unlocked the door.
"I should think you might at least have obeyed
my express request that you should sit up for us,
Arthur," said Julia, sweeping into the room in a
towering passion. "You appear to think it the
proper thing for us to dance attendance for half
an hour at your door----"
"Four minutes, my dear," James mildly corrected,
stepping into the room at the end of his
wife's pink satin train.
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