I struggled to gain my feet.

He looked at me, as well he might, in amazement.

"I would ask you," he said, "to excuse my unceremonious entrance, but
that it seems to have been providential. You have met with an accident,
I am afraid. Allow me."

He helped me to stagger to my feet, and pushed me gently into the easy
chair. The match burnt out, and he quietly struck another and looked
around the room for a candle or lamp. It was a vain search, for I had
neither.

"I am afraid," I said, "that I am out of candles--and oil. I got a
little overtired walking here, and my foot slipped in the dark. Did I
understand that you wished to see me?"

"I did," he answered gravely. "My name is Mostyn Ray--but I think that
we had better have some light. I am going to get one of the motor
lamps."

"If you could call--in the morning," I began desperately, but he had
already opened and closed the door. I looked around my room, and I
could have sobbed with mortification. The omnibus was lit inside as
well as out, and I knew very well who was there. Already he was talking
with the occupants. I saw a girl lean forward and listen to him. Then
my worst fears were verified. I saw her descend, and they both stood
for a moment by the side of the man who was tugging at one of the huge
lamps. I closed my eyes in despair.