the strong afternoon sunlight found its subdued way through the
Holland blinds. The politely interrogative smile faded from her lips.
She seemed to pass through a moment of terror, a moment during which
her thoughts were numbed. She sank into the chair which her visitor
gravely held out for her, and by degrees she recovered her powers
of speech.

"Forgive me," she begged. "The name upon the card should have warned
me--but I had no idea--I was not expecting a visit from you."

"Naturally," he acquiesced smoothly, "and I beg you not to discompose
yourself. My visit bodes you no harm--neither you nor any one
belonging to you."

"I was foolish," she confessed. "I have been working overtime at the
hospital lately--we have sent so many of our nurses to France. My
nerves are not quite what they should be."

He bowed sympathetically. His tone and demeanour were alike
reassuring.

"I quite understand," he said. "Still, some day or other I suppose
you expected a visit from me?"

"In a way I certainly did," she admitted. "You must let me know
presently, please, exactly what I can do. Don't think because I was
startled to see you that I wish to repudiate my debt. I have never
ceased to be grateful to you for your wonderful behaviour on that
ghastly night."