full of mellow tints of brown and gold, athwart which the afternoon
sunlight lingered tenderly, picking out here the limpid blue of a bit of
old Chinese "blue-and-white," there the warm gleam of polished copper,
or here again the bizarre, gem-encrusted image of an Eastern god. All
that was rare and beautiful had gone to the making of the room, and
rarer and more beautiful than all, in the eyes of the man whose memory
now recalled it, had been the woman to whom it had belonged, whose
loveliness had glowed within it like a jewel in a rich setting.

With a mental jolt his thoughts came back to the present, to the bare,
commonplace ugliness of Wallater's Buildings.

"My God!" he muttered. "Pauline--here!"

Then with swift steps he began the ascent of the stone steps, gradually
slackening in pace until, when he reached the summit and stood facing
that door behind which a woman watched and waited, he had perforce to
pause to regain his breath, whilst certain twinges in his right knee
reminded him that he was no longer as young as he had been.

In answer to his knock a low voice bade him enter, and a minute later he
was standing in the quiet little room, his eyes gazing levelly into the
feverish dark ones of the woman who had risen at his entrance.

"So!" she said, while an odd smile twisted her bloodless lips. "You
have come, after all. Sometimes--I began to doubt if you would. It is
days--an eternity since I sent for you."

"I have been away," he replied simply. "And my mail was not forwarded. I
came directly I received the ring--at once, as I told you I should."