But he did after several minutes of abstraction discover something not
quite normal in Nick's silence, and glanced down at him to ascertain
what it was.
Nick had flung himself into a deep easy-chair, and was lying quite
motionless with his head back upon the cushion. His eyes were closed.
He had been smoking when he entered, but he had dropped his cigar half
consumed into an ash-tray.
Grange looked at him with renewed uneasiness, and looked away again.
He could not help feeling that there was some moral tension somewhere;
but he had never possessed a keen perception, he could not have said
wherein it lay.
He retired into his shell once more and sat down facing his host in
silence that had become dogged.
Suddenly, without moving, Nick spoke.
His words were slightly more deliberate than usual, very even, very
distinct. "To come to the point," he said. "I saw you on the shore
this afternoon--you and Mrs. Musgrave."
"What?" Grange gave a great start and stared across at him, gripping
the arms of his chair.
Nick's face, however, remained quite expressionless. "I saw you," he
repeated.
With an effort Grange recovered himself. "Did you though? I wondered
how you knew I was down here. Where were you?"
There was an abrupt tremor behind Nick's eyelids, but they remained
closed.
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