“Come in!” said Dolly.
Frances said nothing. She was tongue-tied.
He came forward into the room, moving with the careless strength of conscious power. He paused at her bedside.
“Are you feeling better?”
She recovered herself with an effort. “I am much better, thank you,” she said, and held out her hand.
He paused an instant as if she had taken him by surprise. Then abruptly he gripped and held the outstretched hand. His face changed magically. He smiled at her, and his smile was good to see. It took years from his appearance, belying the iron-grey of hair that had once been as black as his brows.
“I’m glad of that,” he said. “I hope they are doing all they can for you.”
“They are doing far too much,” Frances said. “I feel so ashamed lying here.”
“Why ashamed?” he said.
She coloured again, painfully, under his eyes. “I have never been in anyone’s debt before,” she said. “And this—this is more than I can ever hope to repay.”