It did not add to her peace of mind to discover as she followed the prisoner and his captors into the library that she was shoeless. Over by the fire her slippers were still drying. Mr. Morton was staring solemnly at them.
With icy dignity she glided past him and picked them up.
"Ah—allow me," he said, dropping to one knee.
"Thank you, but I always put on my own shoes," said Rosalind.
Damp as they were, she contrived to squeeze into them. They gave her a sense of security.
"You must have been good and hungry, Rosalind," remarked Reggy Williams.
He was examining the tea-tray with its two cups and saucers. She did not at first understand.
"Certainly I was hungry."
"As hungry as two people, evidently."
She colored faintly, but answered readily enough. "Oh! you mean the two cups and saucers. I did it absent-mindedly. I'm not accustomed to lunching alone."