“But who? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to give you a surprise.”
She looked annoyed and yet curious. “You must tell me. Is it a man or a woman?”
He didn’t dare to let her know that it was her husband.
“You’ll see presently.”
She was beginning to protest; Miss Florence entered. Under her attempt at cordiality her face betrayed dismay, and something still less comfortable—judgment. Peter employed her entrance as an excuse for his own rapid exit. He soon returned. “They want to see you now.”
Making the best of an awkward situation, Jehane exclaimed, “They! So there are several of them! It was only ‘someone’ at first.”
She followed him up the stairs, trying to catch up with and question him; he was careful to keep sufficiently far ahead to prevent conversation. He opened a door on the landing—the door which led into the white room. He made as if he were going to accompany her, but, as she crossed the threshold, stepped back and closed the door.
“You!”
The man held out his arms. When she stood rigid and did not stir, he dragged himself across the bed, as if to come to her.