But he seized the chance to entrap her fingers, fan and all, and look deeply into her eyes. For a time she could scarcely believe he was gone. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese. When he came to a certain sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her. She cursed herself for a fool. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. Suppose her father turned her out of doors! She did not care, she meant to go. "I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow. “Oh, there’s no doubt of it! Since the girls of the eighties broke bounds and sailed away on bicycles—my young days go back to the very beginnings of that —it’s been one triumphant relaxation. Unless he has killed someone. He grabbed her legs and threw the covers from the bed. They talked lightly but confidentially until Sir John approached them with a slight frown upon his face.
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