Yes, she was there. She sat on the edge of a chair near the fire, staring at the fire. She was dressed in the customary black. Ah! it was the very face he had seen in the coffin, the same marvellous and incomparable features; not even sadder, not aged by a day; the same!
She turned at the sound of the closing of the door, and, upon seeing him, started slightly. Then she rose, and delicately blushed.
'Good-evening, Mr. Hugo,' she said, in a low, calm voice. 'I did not expect to see you.'
Great poetical phrases should have rushed to his lips—phrases meet for a tremendous occasion. But they did not. He sighed. 'I can only say what comes into my head,' he thought ruefully. And he said:
'Did I startle you?'
'Not much,' she replied. 'I knew I must meet you one day or another soon. And it is better at once.'
'Just so,' he said. 'It is better at once. Sit down, please. I've been walking all day, and I can scarcely stand.' And he dropped into a chair. 'Do you know, dear lady,' he proceeded, 'that Doctor Darcy and I have been hunting for you all over Paris?'
He managed to get a little jocularity into his tone, and this achievement eased his attitude.
'No,' she said, 'I didn't know. I'm very sorry.'
'But why didn't you let Darcy know that you were coming to London?'