'Paul!'
Ponsonby on his way to bed is surprised at hearing himself called.
'Yes,' he replies.
'I want to tell you something,' is the answer.
The gas has been turned out and all the other men are just turning in for the night.
'What do you want?' he says, going into the sitting-room, from whence the voice issues, a solitary candle burns on the table, and discloses Philippa.
'You here?' he exclaims surprised.
'Yes,' she says. 'I am afraid I vexed you this afternoon, and I wanted to tell you I was sorry, and ...—'
'Don't think about it again, but really you know you ought not to be here—'
'I only waited to tell you that,' she says, turning towards the door feeling utterly miserable, and the tears that she has tried to keep back break forth, and covering her face with her hands she cries as though her heart would break.