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III At six o’clock Betty Tearle signed the letter, put it into an envelope and wrote her husband’s name upon it. She went into his room and after a moment’s hesitation set a black cushion on the bed and laid the white letter on it so that it could not fail to attract his attention when he came in. Then with a quick glance around the room she walked into the hall and upstairs to the nursery. “Clare,” she called softly. “Oh, Mummy!” Clare left her doll’s house and scurried to her mother. “Where’s Billy, Clare?” Billy appeared eagerly from under the bed. “Got anything for me?” he inquired politely. His mother’s laugh ended in a little catch and she caught both her children to her and kissed them passionately. She found that she was crying quietly and their flushed little faces seemed c

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