She stopped again.
"No, I don't think this is quite——"
"Do, do go on!"
Mrs. Foster looked at her.
"You have a great deal of sensibility, Daphne. I believe you have tears in your eyes."
"No, I haven't really." She turned away her head, nearly choking.
A loud knock was heard at the front door.
Mrs. Foster looked out of the window.
"It's Cyril!" she exclaimed. "He's got away after all. Quick! Quick!" She threw the book under a cushion and sat on it. With trembling fingers she took up some needlework out of a basket.
"Not a word—not a word! Go and meet him in the hall, dear. He's come to give us a surprise. I'll wait."