An easy-chair was drawn up to the side of a small table,
on which was placed a tumbler, some biscuits, a box of cigarettes and
some matches. A copper saucepan full of milk stood in the hearth, side
by side with some slippers,--dainty, fur-topped slippers. Even these
slight evidences of her coming presence seemed to thrill him. Time
dissolved away into a dream of anticipation. Minutes or hours might
have passed before he heard the motor stop outside, her voice bidding
some friend a cheerful good night, the turning of the key in the door,
the drawing of a bolt, a light step in the hall, and then--Jane.
She was wrapped from head to foot in white furs, a small tiara of
emeralds and diamonds on her head. She entered, humming a tune to
herself, serene, desirable.
"Andrew!"
Her exclamation, the light in her eyes, the pleasure which swiftly took
the place of her first amazement, intoxicated him. He drew her into his
arms and his voice shook.
"Jane," he confessed, "I tried to keep away and I couldn't. I stole in
here to wait for you. And you're glad--thank heavens you're glad!"
"But how long have you been here?" she asked wonderingly.
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