Valancy knew, as people sometimes know things — inescapably, without being told — that he was not in the house or in Bluebeard’s Chamber either. There was a curious silence in the living-room. A silence with something uncanny about it. The old clock had stopped. Barney must have forgotten to wind it up, something he had never done before. The room without it was dead, though the sunshine streamed in through the oriel and dimples of light from the dancing waves beyond quivered over the walls.

The canoe was gone but Lady Jane was under the mainland trees. So Barney had betaken himself to the wilds. He would not return till night — perhaps not even then. He must be angry with her. That furious silence of his must mean anger — cold, deep, justifiable resentment. Well, Valancy knew what she must do