There was his face—his hands—at her door! But what a foreign grey body!
"Come in, Ghost!" she said, and held out her hands—for now she cared at least for "he who cared"—lest that, too, be lost! Does a ghost kiss? Yes, sometimes. Sometimes they are ghosts who kiss.
"Oh, Fanny!" Then, with a quick glance at the table, "You are expecting someone?"
"You. How late you come to tea with me!"
"But I—You didn't know."
"I waited tea for you," she said, and turning to a calendar upon a wooden wheel, she rolled it back a month.
She made him sit, she made him drink and eat. He filled the room with his gaiety. He had no reasons upon his tongue, and no excuses; she no reproaches, no farewell.
A glance round the room had shown her that there were no signs of her packing; her heavy kitbag was at the station, her suitcase packed and in the cupboard. She put her gravest news away till later.
"You came by the new train—that has arrived at last in Charleville?"
"Yes, and I go up to Revins to-night."