shiver shook his whole frame. He was standing facing his half-open door,
and outside on the stone steps he heard the soft, even footfall of
slippered feet, and the gentle rustling of a woman's gown.

He was not conscious of any movement, but when she reached the landing he
was standing there on the threshold, with the soft halo of light from
behind shining on to his white, fiercely questioning face. She came
towards him without speech, and her veil was lowered so that he could
only imperfectly see her face, but she walked as one newly recovered from
illness, with trembling footsteps, and with one hand always upon the
banisters. When she reached the corner she stopped, and seemed about to
collapse. She spoke to him, and her voice had lost all its quality. It
sounded harsh and unreal.

"Why are you--spying on me?" she asked.

"I am not spying," he answered. "I have been asleep--and woke up
suddenly."

"Give me--some brandy!" she begged.

She stood upon the threshold and drank from the wineglass which he
had filled. When she gave it back to him, he noticed that her fingers
were steady.

"Will you come downstairs and let me out?" she asked. "I have looked
down and it is all dark on the ground floor. I am not sure that I
know my way."

He hesitated, but only for a moment. Side by side they walked down four