He shook his head. "You were not undignified," he said, "but you were very severe. I think that she will go away."
Adrea's face hardened again. "I do not care! I would hate the dearest friend I had on earth who tried to come between us. Oh! Paul, Paul! don't you feel as I do; as though the world were empty, and my mind swept bare of memories,—as though there were no background to it all, nothing save you and I, and our love?"
Paul drew her to him. For him, at that moment, there was no past nor any future. The dreamy abandon of her manner seemed to have raised an echo within him.
"Listen! What is that?" Adrea exclaimed suddenly.
There was the ring of a horse's hoofs in the avenue, and immediately afterwards a loud peal at the bell. Paul and Adrea looked at one another breathlessly. Who could it be?
The outer door was opened and closed, and then quick steps passed across the hall. The drawing-room door was thrown open, and Arthur de Vaux, pale and splashed with mud from head to foot, stood upon the threshold.