"What are you going to do?"
She sprang up as if to hold him back, but his finger was on the bell.
"You don't mind, I hope?" he asked; but he had rung before she could give an answer. The maid appeared in the doorway.
"Ask Mr. Wayne if he would be good enough to come in here a minute. Tell him Mr. Strange particularly wants to see him."
He went back to his place by the fireside, where he stood apparently calm, showing no sign of excitement except in heightened color and the stillness of nervous tension Miriam sank into her chair again.
"Don't do anything rash," she pleaded. "Wait till to-morrow There will always be time. For God's sake!"
If he heard her he paid no attention, and presently Wayne appeared. He hesitated a minute on the threshold, and during that instant Ford could see that he looked ashy and older, as if something had aged him suddenly. His hands trembled, too, as he felt his way in.
"Good-evening," he said, speaking into the air as blind men do. "I thought I heard your voice."
Having groped his way across the room and reached the table that stood between the arm-chairs Miriam and Ford had occupied, he stopped. He stood there, with fingers drumming soundlessly on the polished wood, waiting for some one to speak.
In spite of the confidence with which he had rung the bell, Ford found it difficult now to begin. It was only after one or two inarticulate attempts that he was able to say anything.