The woman coloured faintly.
There was about her the beauty of a clear and frosty day.
"Thank-you," she said.
He held out his hand.
She took it, and he would not let it go, those eyes of his, in which light and darkness, cruelty and kindness, chased each other, engaging hers.
"Good-bye," he said. "I don't know what your name is—Look after him," He jerked his head towards the door. "He needs it."
The woman dropped her eyes, the lovely colour deepening in her cheeks.
"I'll try," she said, her natural surliness dashed with ungracious graciousness.
In the passage he put on his coat.
Edward came out to him.