The night was chilly, and they had a fire. Hope lay on a sofa before it, and Ronnie sat and smoked. Both were luxuriously comfortable till a hand rapped smartly upon the window and made them jump.
Ronnie exclaimed with a violence that astonished Hope, and started to his feet. She also sprang up eagerly, almost expecting to see her fiancé. But her expectations were quickly dashed.
"It's that fellow Hyde!" Ronnie said, looking at her rather doubtfully. "You don't mind?"
Her face fell, but he did not wait for her reply. He stepped across to the window, and admitted the visitor.
Hyde sauntered in with a casual air.
He came across to her, smiling in the way she loathed, and almost before she realized it he had her hand in a tight, impressive grip, and his pale eyes were gazing full into hers.
"You look as fresh as an English rose," was his deliberate greeting.
Hope freed her hand with a slight, involuntary gesture of disgust. Till the moment of seeing him again she had almost forgotten how utterly objectionable he was.
"I am quite well," she said coldly. "I think I shall go to bed, Ronnie. I'm tired."
Ronnie was pouring some whisky into a glass. She noticed that his hand was very shaky.