The rain increased in volume as the evening wore on. Still Irene did not come. It struck eleven o'clock, and Jenny said she could wait no longer.
"I'll get a cab," said Danby.
"No; don't leave me here all alone," cried Jenny.
"Why should you go home at all to-night?" Danby breathed in a parched whisper.
Jenny pressed her face against the jet-black window-pane and suddenly away beyond Westminster there was a low bourdon of thunder.
"Stay with me," pleaded Danby; "it's such a night for love."
"Who cares?" murmured Jenny. "I've only myself to think about."
"What did you say?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"But you will stay?"