They talked in a desultory fashion until it grew dark. The landlady brought in the tea. Dawes drew up his chair to the table without being invited, like a husband. Then he sat humbly waiting for his cup. She served him as she would, like a wife, not consulting his wish.
After tea, as it drew near to six o'clock, he went to the window. All was dark outside. The sea was roaring.
"It's raining yet," he said.
"Is it?" she answered.
"You won't go tonight, shall you?" he said, hesitating.
She did not answer. He waited.
"I shouldn't go in this rain," he said.
"Do you want me to stay?" she asked.
His hand as he held the dark curtain trembled.
"Yes," he said.