“I didn’t wish to disturb you,” said he, calm and grave.

“But you wouldn’t have been disturbing me,” protested she, leaning against the door frame, less than two feet away and directly facing him.

“I’ll stay on here,” said he.

She gazed at him with great puzzled eyes.  “Aren’t you glad I’m back?” she asked.

“Certainly,” said he with a polite smile.  “But I must get some sleep.”  And he moved away.

“You must let me tell you how I happened to go and why I came——­”

“Please,” he interrupted, looking at her with a piercing though not in the least unfriendly expression that made her grow suddenly pale and thoughtful.  “I do not wish to hear about it—­not now—­not ever.  Tetlow told me all that it’s necessary for me to know.  You have come to stay, I assume?”

“Yes—­if”—­her lip quivered—­“if you’ll let me.”

“There can be no question of that,” said he with the same polite gravity he had maintained throughout.

“You want me to leave you alone?”

“Please.  I need sleep badly—­and I’ve only three hours.”

“You are—­angry with me?”

He looked placidly into her lovely, swimming eyes.  “Not in the least.”

“But how can you help being?  I acted dreadfully.”

He smiled gently.  “But you are back—­and the incident is closed.”

She looked down at the carpet, her fingers playing with her braid, twisting and untwisting its strands.  He stood waiting to close the door.  She said, without lifting her eyes—­said in a quiet, expressionless way, “I have killed your love?”

“I’ll not trouble you any more,” evaded he.  And he laid his hand significantly upon the knob.

“I don’t understand,” she murmured.  Then, with a quick apologetic glance at him, “But I’m very inconsiderate.  You want to sleep.  Good night.”

“Good night,” said he, beginning to close the door.

She impulsively stood close before him, lifted her small white face, as if for a kiss.  “Do you forgive me?” she asked.  “I was foolish.  I didn’t understand—­till I went back.  Then—­nothing was the same.  And I knew I wasn’t fitted for that life—­and didn’t really care for him—­and——­”

He kissed her on the brow.  “Don’t agitate yourself,” said he.  “And we will never speak of this again.”

She shrank as if he had struck her.  Her head drooped, and her shoulders.  When she was clear of the door, he quietly closed it.

XIX

It was not many minutes after ten when Tetlow hurried into Norman’s office.  “Galloway’s coming at eleven!” said he, with an air of triumph.

“So you mulled over what I said and decided that I was not altogether drunk?”

“I wasn’t sure of that,” replied Tetlow.  “But I was afraid you’d be offended if I didn’t try to get him.  He gave me no trouble at all.  As soon as I told him you’d be glad to see him at your office, he astounded me by saying he’d come.”