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THE CLIMBER

She went down to Edgar's room again in the course of the morning, and told him casually, so she believed, that she had arranged for the household to leave London as soon as she went to stay with Mouse, and that the town house would be shut up. But to a man who is suspicious there is no such thing as casual information. He believes all information to be significant, though perhaps at the time he cannot guess its significance, and what this information conveyed to him was not so much that the house in Prince's Gate would be shut up when he went to Brayton, but that Lucia wished him to think that it would be. What that meant, he had no idea; he merely believed it to mean something. But above all tilings, he did not want Lucia to see his suspicions, and he was casual too. And his casualness, likewise, Lucia read by the light of her own uneasiness. Each played a secret part in the ghastly, bitter little farce.


Her plans met with his approval.

"You think of everything, my dear Lucia," he said. "It is far better to leave the servants in the country, and, as you say, they have nothing more to do when we leave the house on Monday. You and your maid will join me, then, on Friday at the Grosvenor Hotel, and we start on Saturday morning."

Lucia continued the prudent course.

"Yes; I wish you were coming to Ashdown, though. Mouse will be sorry not to see you. Can't you manage to come for one day?"

"I fear it is impossible. I see that my time will be very fully occupied as it is. But I shall be able to get up on Friday night."

Lucia put in what she thought was a fine piece of work.

"If you don't," she said, "I shall quite refuse to wait. I shall telegraph to Charlie and make him come instead. He is going to be at Ashdown."

"So you told me. Well, I must go out now."

"You will be in to lunch?"

"Yes. You have not got a party, have you?"

"No; as far as I know we shall be quite alone. Not that I expect it; somebody always drops in."

Edgar knew well when first he began to watch his wife and Charlie, and, to do him justice, knew how stern and loyal a struggle he went through with himself before he definitely admitted suspicions into his mind. Suspicion was an ugly thing, and he knew it, but as often as he thought he had got the better of