A glow of firelight met them from the little square hall as they entered, and a smell of cigarette smoke mingled with the scent from the burning logs.
Dot stood back for her guest to precede her, but Anne stood suddenly still.
“Hullo!” said Dot again.
A slim, straight figure was standing outlined against the firelight. Dot stared as she stepped forward.
“Why—Nap!” she said incredulously.
He made a swift, elastic movement to meet her, caught her hands, laughed, and kissed her.
“Why—Dot!” he said.
Dot continued to stare. “Good gracious!” she said.
And in the doorway Anne stood like a statue, the soft spring dusk behind her.
“My sister seems surprised,” said Nap. “I hope I haven’t come at an unlucky moment.”
He did not even glance towards the silent figure in the doorway. It was as if he had not observed it.
“I am surprised,” said Dot. “Hugely surprised. But I’m very glad to see you,” she added. “When did you come?”
“I have been here about half an hour,” he told her coolly. “I went to the Rectory first, where I learned for the first time of your marriage. You forgot to mention that detail when you wrote. Hence my brotherly salute, which you must have missed on your wedding-day!”
At this point Dot remembered her other guest, and turned with flushed cheeks. “Lady Carfax—Anne—you—you know my brother-in-law Nap?”
The pleading in her voice was unmistakable. She was evidently agitated, wholly at a loss how to manage a most difficult situation.
But Nap hastened to relieve her of the responsibility. He had dealt with difficult situations before. He went straight to Anne and stood before her.
“Are you going to know me, Lady Carfax?” he asked.
There was no arrogance in voice or bearing as he uttered the question. He looked as if he expected to be dismissed, as if he were ready at a word to turn and go. His eyes were lowered. His foot was already on the threshold.
But Anne stood speechless and rigid. For those few seconds she was as one stricken with paralysis. She knew that if she moved or tried to speak she would faint.
She wondered desperately how long it would be before he looked up, if perhaps he would go without looking at her, or if—ah, he was speaking again! His words reached her as from an immense distance. At the same instant his hands came to her out of a surging darkness that hid all things, grasping, sustaining, compelling. She yielded to them, scarcely knowing what she did.
“Lady Carfax has been overtiring herself,” she heard him say. “Have you any brandy at hand?”
“Oh, dear Lady Carfax!” cried Dot in distress. “Make her sit down, Nap. Here is a cushion. Yes, I’ll go and get some.”
Guided by those steady hands, Anne sank into a chair, and there the constriction that bound her began to pass. She shivered from head to foot.