It has been said that you came straight back here last night from Harrel ?" Joan's face turned slowly white.

She stood with her great eyes fixed upon Sir Chichester, still as an image, and she did not answer a word.
Harry Luttrell drew in a quick breath like a man in pain.

Sir Chichester was selecting a new pen and noticed nothing.
"It's ridiculous, of course, my dear, but I must put to you the formal question.

Did you ?" "Yes," answered Joan, and the pen fell from Sir Chichester's hand.
"But--but--how did you come back ?" "I borrowed Miranda's car." Miranda's legs gave under her and she sank down with a moan in a chair.
"But Miranda denies that she lent it," said Sir Chichester in exasperation.
"I asked her to deny it." "Why ?" Joan's eyes for one swift instant swept round to Harry Luttrell.

She swayed.