CHAPTER X 

I knew the moment I opened the door that changes were on foot. Our studio sitting-room was dismantled of many of its treasures. Allan, with his coat off and a pipe in his mouth, was throwing odds and ends in a promiscuous sort of way into a huge trunk which stood open upon the floor. Arthur, a few yards off, was rolling a cigarette. 

Our meeting was not wholly free from embarrassment. I think that for the first time in our lives there was a cloud between Allan and myself. He stood up and faced me squarely. 

"Arnold," he said, "where is Isobel?" 

"In Illghera with her grandfather," I answered. "Where else should she be?" 

"Are you sure?" 

"I have seen her there with my own eyes," I affirmed. 

There was a moment's pause. I saw the two exchange glances. Then Allan held out his hand. 

"That damned woman again!" he exclaimed. "Forgive me, Arnold!" 

"Willingly," I answered, "when I know what for." 

"Suspecting you. Lady Delahaye wrote Arthur a note, in which she said that the Archduchess and you had made fresh plans. You can guess what they were. And Illghera was off. You did hurry us away from Paris a bit, you know, and I was fool enough to imagine for a moment that there might be something in it. Forgive me, Arnold!" he added, holding out his hand. 

"And me!" Arthur exclaimed, extending his. 

I held out a hand to each. There was something grimly humorous in this reception, after all that I had suffered during the last few days. My first impulse of anger died away almost as quickly as it had been conceived. 
What was Allan doing?
his coat off and a pipe in his mouth