Sir Julian stopped.
"Are you coming to give us some tea?" he asked her.
"Yes—No. No—I don't think so," she said confusedly, her pale face colouring unmistakably.
Sir Julian felt vaguely disappointed. He had expected that the consciousness of antagonism in the air would have roused in her a certain latent defiance already dimly foreshadowed in her erect bearing and abrupt, defensive phraseology. But she was looking tired already, and frightened, as though she realised herself to be very much alone.
"Are you busy?" he asked.
"I am, rather."
She looked at him doubtfully, and once more he saw the shadow of fear, unmistakable, in her dark-circled eyes.
He did not know what else to say, although he felt very sorry for her, and he thought that for a moment she seemed about to say something further.
But she only opened her lips for an instant and then turned away without speaking.
"Good-bye," said Sir Julian lamely.