"Oh, he's bargaining with somebody for the price of a bed!" said young Blake, with an attempt at lightness.
The landlord's steps were heard descending the stairs again. And now another step drew near.
Suddenly young Blake darted towards the door and locked it. He turned a scared face round on Sibylla. The steps sounded along the passage. His eyes met hers. He did not know the step, but he knew the one thing that he feared, and his uneasy mind flew to the apprehension of it.
"Can it be—anybody?" he whispered.
"It's Grantley," she answered quietly. "Unlock the door. I'm not afraid to meet him. In the end I believe I'm glad."
"No, no! You're mad! You mustn't see him. I'll see him. You go into the other room." There was a communicating door which led to a bedroom. "I'll not let him come near you. I'll stand between you and him."
"I must see him. I'm not afraid, Walter. Unlock the door."
"Oh, but I shan't let him come in. I shall——"
"If it's Grantley, he'll come in. Unlock the door. At any rate we can't have the door broken in."
She smiled a little as she said this, and then sat down in the chair by the table where Blake had been sitting when she kissed his hand and gave him her surrender.