It was in a stupor of despair that he heard her say, "Wait a bit here, till I've got rid of these people." He stumbled away and stood on the bearskin rug before the fireplace, while she joined the lingering group by the door.

The two or three minutes were an eternity of agony to Paul.

He had lost his great game.
Miss Winwood shut the door and came swiftly to him and laid her hand on his arm.

Paul hung his head and looked into the fire.

"My poor boy!" she said very tenderly.