"I am resting like this," she whispered.
He stood at last upon the top landing. He set her down with a little thrill, assailed by a medley of sensations, the significance of which confused him. She seemed still to cling to him, and she pointed to his door.
"For five minutes," she begged, "let us sit in our chairs and look down at the river. To-night it is too hot to sleep."
Even while he opened his door, he hesitated.
"What about Isaac?" he asked.
She shivered and looked over her shoulder. They were in his room now and she closed the door. On the threshold she stood quite still for a moment, as though listening. There was something in her face which alarmed him.
"Do you know, I believe that I am afraid to go back," she said. "Isaac has been stranger than ever these last few days. All the time he is locked up in his room, and he shows himself only at night."
Arnold dragged her chair up to the window and installed her comfortably. He himself was thinking of Isaac's face under the gaslight, as he had seen him stepping away from the taxicab.
"Isaac was always queer," he reminded her, reassuringly.
She drew him down to her side.