“That is—Sir Wingrave with you?”
“Yes!” Aynesworth answered. “It was he who saw you first!”
She seemed to catch her breath. Her voice was still tremulous.
“He is changed,” she said. “I should not have recognized him.”
“They were the best ten years of his life,” Aynesworth answered. “Think of how and in what surroundings he has been compelled to live. No wonder that he has had the humanity hammered out of him.”
She shivered a little.
“Is he always like this?” she asked. “I have watched him. He never smiles. He looks as hard as fate itself.”
“I have known him only a few hours,” Aynesworth reminded her.
“I dare not come tomorrow,” she whispered; “I am afraid of him.”
“Do you wish me to tell him so?” he asked.