"Your chauffeur? I thought he rather overdid his superciliousness and that he treated you a little as if he were your husband. Apart from that——"
"Apart from that," she laughed, "he made you feel entirely welcome. You mustn't mind him. My servants aren't used to seeing me with an escort. And then—— Well, an all-night ride would be a little difficult to explain to anybody."
"I suppose it would."
They relapsed into silence. It was jolly to be so
near to her and, after the fears he had had, to know himself so trusted. She sat quite close to him, so that he could feel the warmth of her body. Her shoulders touched him; sometimes she leant against him with a gentle pressure. Her fragrance was all about him. The robe spread across their knees gave an added touch of intimacy. He glanced down at her sideways. She was wearing a moleskin coat with a deep collar of silver-fox. She had on a moleskin hat, close fitting to her glossy head. Her face was partly hidden by a smart veil. She was immaculate as ever—as composed and stylish as if she were going to a theater-party instead of on an all-night ride to London. But it wasn't her stylishness that impressed him; it was her littleness. She looked very tender and pale as she sat beside him. The moral back of her chauffeur, as seen through the glass, condemned him of unkindness. He had had no right to ask her to accompany him. Why should he have burdened her with his troubles? She must have plenty of her own, with her boy to care for and her estate to manage.
"I've been selfish," he said. "You ought to be in bed and sleeping now."
She smiled. "Always blaming yourself, aren't you? I shouldn't be here unless I'd wanted."
"But why did you want?"
Beneath the robe her hand commenced to grope. It stole into his own and lay there quietly. "Because I couldn't bear to see you hurt. You're so good. In some ways you're so strong; in others
you're just as tiny as my Eric. I felt you needed me for the moment."