So lightly had she entered, and so lightly did she steal up the warehouse stair, that the solitary being making out accounts at the desk was not aware of her presence until she spoke. And then, oh how timid her look and tone, just as if she feared greatly her reception.
'Excuse me coming in, Walter. I wanted so much to see you, I could not help coming. I will not hinder you long.'
He leaped up in the greatness of his surprise, in his agitation knocking over the stool on which he had been sitting. His face was dusky red, his firm mouth trembling, as he touched for a moment the outstretched, daintily-gloved hand.
'Oh, it is you? Won't you sit down? It is a battered old chair, but if you wait a moment I'll bring you another,' he said awkwardly.
'No, don't. I have often sat on this box. I can sit on it again,' she said unsteadily. 'I won't sit on ten chairs, Walter, though you should bring them to me this moment.'
She sat down, and her movement sent a faint whiff of perfume about her, dainty as herself. And then there was just a moment's painful silence. The awkwardness of the moment dwelt with them both; it would be hard to say which felt it more.
'I suppose,' said Walter stiffly, 'you are getting on all right?'
'Yes. I thought you would have come to see me before this, Walter,' said Gladys quietly.
'You need not have thought so. I said I wouldn't come, that nothing would induce me to come,' he answered shortly.
'We are going away into Ayrshire, so I thought I must come to say good-bye,' Gladys said then.