"Douglas!" she exclaimed. "Is that you?"
"May I come in, or is it too late?"
She looked into his face, and the ready assent died away upon her lips.
He noticed her hesitation, but remained silent.
"Of course," she said, slowly. "What have you done with your friends?"
"They have gone home," he answered, shortly. "I came on here. I wanted to see you."
They passed into the house and to her little sitting-room, where a couch was drawn up before a tiny fire of cedar wood, and her maid was waiting. Emily dismissed her almost at once, and, throwing herself down, lighted a cigarette.
"Sit down, my friend, and smoke," she said. "I will tell you, if you like, about my travels, and then I must hear about the novel."
But Douglas came over and stood by her side. His eyes were burning with fire, and his voice was tremulous with emotion as he replied.
"Afterwards. I have something else to say to you first."