She restored the box to its place, the key to its ring—then she opened the case and looked at the sapphire. As she did so, a little tremor ran over her neck and throat, and closing her eyes she felt her husband’s kiss, and the touch of his hands as he fastened on the jewel.
She unbolted the door, listened intently on the landing, and then went slowly down the stairs. None of the servants were in sight, yet as she reached the lower hall she was conscious that the air had grown suddenly colder, as though the outer door had just been opened. She paused, and listened again. There was a sound of talking in the drawing-room. Could it be that in her absence a visitor had been admitted? The possibility frightened her at first—then she welcomed it as an unexpected means of ridding herself of her tormentor.
She opened the drawing-room door, and saw her husband talking with Wyant.
XXXV
AMHERST, his back to the threshold, sat at a table writing: Wyant stood a few feet away, staring down at the fire.
Neither had heard the door open; and before they were aware of her entrance Justine had calculated that
she must have been away for at least five minutes, and
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