“Will you tie it, please?” said Stephen, in an ordinary tone, and Una, laughing still, tied it.
Stephen stood motionless, his eyes cast down; he was afraid to raise them lest the passion blazing in them should be read by all there.
“Thanks. I cannot catch cold now,” he said, as he took her hand and held it for a moment.
He put them into the brougham, and under the pretext of arranging her shawl, touched her hand once again; then he stood in the chilly street and watched the brougham till it disappeared in the distance.
Then he turned and walked homeward.
“One step in the right direction,” he muttered. “Take care, Master Jack; I shall outwit you yet.”
As he ascended the stairs of his chambers, Slummers came out to meet him.
“There is a—person waiting for you, Mr. Stephen,” he said.
Stephen stopped, and his hand closed on the balustrade; his thoughts flew to Laura Treherne.
“A—woman, Slummers?”