There was a small sound from the young woman; her breathing was checked; she had choked down a dry sob.  This signal, so faint and so dramatic in the stillness of the parlour, at once intimidated and encouraged him.

“What have you done with that money?” he asked, in a cold voice.

“What money?” Rachel replied, low, without raising her head.  Her hand had ceased to move the needle.

“You know what money.”

“I took it to Julian, of course.”

“Why did you take it to Julian?”

“We agreed I should, last week—­you yourself said so—­don’t you remember?” Her tones acquired some confidence.

“No, I don’t remember.  I remember something was said about letting him have half of it.  Did you give him half or all of it?”

“I gave him all of it.”

“I like that!  I like that!” Louis remarked sarcastically.  “I like your nerve.  You do it on the sly.  You don’t say a word to me; and not content with that, you give him all of it.  Why didn’t you tell me?  Why didn’t you ask me for the money?”

Rachel offered no answer.

Louis proceeded with more vivacity.  “And did he take it?”

“I made him.”

“What?  All of it?  What reason did you give?  How did you explain things?”

“I told him you’d had the rest of the money, of course, so it was all right.  It wouldn’t have been fair to him if some one hadn’t told him.”

Louis now seriously convinced himself that his grievance was tremendous, absolutely unexampled in the whole history of marriage.

“Well,” said he, with high, gloomy dignity, “it may interest you to know that I didn’t have the rest of the money....  If I’d had it, what do you suppose I’ve done with it?...  Over five hundred pounds, indeed!”

“Then what—?”

“I don’t think I want any of your ‘Then what’s.’  You wouldn’t listen before, so why should you be told now?  However, I expect I must teach you a lesson—­though it’s too late.”

Rachel did not move.  She heard him say that he had discovered the bank-notes at night, under the chair on the landing.  “I took charge of them.  I collared them, for the time being,” he said.  “I happened to be counting them when you knocked at my bedroom door.  I admit I was rather taken aback.  I didn’t want you to see the notes.  I didn’t see any reason why you should know anything about my aunt’s carelessness.  You must remember you were only a paid employee then.  I was close to the fireplace.  I just scrunched them up in my hand and dropped them behind the fire-screen.  Of course I meant to pick them up again instantly you’d gone.  Well, you didn’t go.  You seemed as if you wouldn’t go.  I had to run for the doctor.  There was no help for it.  Even then I never dreamt you intended to light the fire in that room.  It never occurred to me for a second....  And I should have thought anybody lighting a fire couldn’t have helped seeing a thing like a ball of bank-notes on the top of the grate.  I should have thought so.  But it seems I was wrong.  When I got back of course the whole blooming thing was up the chimney.  Well, there you are!  What was I to do?  I ask you that.”