Seaton and I stood and ate our supper, with one candlestick to light
us, in a corner of the dining-room. "Well, and how would you like it?"
he said very softly, after cautiously poking his head round the
doorway.
"Like what?"
"Being spied on--every blessed thing you do and think?"
"I shouldn't like it at all," I said, "if she does."
"And yet you let her smash you up at chess!"
"I didn't let her!" I said indignantly.
"Well, you funked it, then."
"And I didn't funk it either," I said; "she's so jolly clever with her
knights." Seaton stared fixedly at the candle. "You wait, that's all,"
he said slowly. And we went upstairs to bed.
I had not been long in bed, I think, when I was cautiously awakened by
a touch on my shoulder. And there was Seaton's face in the candlelight
and his eyes looking into mine.
"What's up?" I said, rising quickly to my elbow.
"Don't scurry," he whispered, "or she'll hear. I'm sorry for waking
you, but I didn't think you'd be asleep so soon."
"Why, what's the time, then?" Seaton wore, what was then rather
unusual, a night-suit, and he hauled his big silver watch out of the
pocket in his jacket.
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