She led him across the hall into her little sanctum.
"This is the room," she told him, "in which I never do a stroke of
work--sacred to the frivolities alone. I shall send Morton in to see
what you will have to drink, while I change my habit. You must have
something after that walk. I shan't be long."
For the second time she avoided meeting his eves as she left the room.
Tallente stood on the hearth-rug, still looking at the closed door
through which she had vanished, puzzled, a little chilled. He gave his
order to the attentive butler who presently appeared and who looked at
him with covert interest,--the Press had been almost hysterically
prodigal of his name during the last few weeks. Then he settled down to
wait for her return with an impatience which became almost
uncontrollable. It seemed to him, as he paced restlessly about, that
this little apartment, which he remembered so well, had in a measure
changed, was revealing a different atmosphere, as though in sympathy
with some corresponding change in its presiding spirit. There was a
huge and well-worn couch, smothered with cushions and suggestive of a
comfort almost voluptuous; a large easy-chair, into which he presently
sank, of the same character.
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