Rodman stepped lightly to the front door,
listened, heard nothing, unlocked and opened. Alice was standing m
the middle of the road, her hands crossed over her breast and
holding her shoulders as though she suffered from the cold. She came
forward and entered the house without speaking.
In the sitting-room she found the lantern and looked at her husband
in surprise. His face was stern.
'What's all this?' he asked sharply.
'I've been to London,' she answered, her teeth chattering with cold
and her voice uncertain from fear.
'Been to London? And what business had you to go without telling
me?'
He spoke savagely. Alice was sinking with dread, but even yet had
sufficient resolve to keep up the comedy.
'I had an invitation. I don't see why I shouldn't go. I don't ask
you who you go about with.'
The table was laid for supper. Rodman darted to it, seized a
carving-knife, and in an instant was holding it to her throat. She
shrieked and fell upon her knees, her face ghastly with mortal
terror. Then Rodman burst out laughing and showed that his anger had
been feigned.
She had barely strength to rise, but at length stood before him
trembling and sobbing, unable to believe that he had not been in
earnest.
'You needn't explain the trick,' he said, with the appearance of
great good-humour, 'but just tell me why you played it.
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