"There has been a great change," he answered simply. "In those days I was very near starvation. I had no idea how I was going to find work. Yet even then I found myself longing for adventures of any sort,—anything to quicken the blood, to feel the earth swell beneath my feet."
She was watching him with that curious look in her eyes which he never wholly understood—half mocking, half tender.
"And after all," she murmured, "you found your way to Tooley Street and the office of Mr. Samuel Weatherley."
She threw herself back in her chair and laughed so irresistibly that Arnold, in a moment or two, found himself sharing her merriment.
"It is all very well," he said presently, "but I am not at all sure that adventures do not sometimes come even to Tooley Street."
She shook her head.
"I shall never believe it. Tell me now about Mr. Weatherley? Was he very sorry when he arrived for having caused you so much anxiety?"
"I have not yet seen Mr. Weatherley," Arnold replied. "Up till the time when I left the office, he had not arrived."
She set down the glass which she had been in the act of raising to her lips. For the first time she seemed to take this matter seriously.
"What time was that?" she asked.