She heard Piers utter an impatient word, and then in a moment or two he raised his voice again. "Come in then! What is it?"
She opened the door with an odd unaccustomed feeling of trepidation.
He was standing in his shirt-sleeves brushing his hair vigorously at the table. His back was towards her, but the glass reflected his face, and she saw that his brows were drawn into a single hard black line. His lips were tightly compressed. He looked undeniably formidable.
"Don't you want me, Piers?" she asked, pausing in the doorway.
His eyes flashed up to hers in the glass, glowing with the smouldering fire, oddly fitful, oddly persistent. "Come in!" he said, without turning. "What is it?"
She went forward to him. "Did you go to the Vicarage?" she asked. "Are they in great trouble?"
She thought she saw relief in his face at her words. "Oh yes," he said. "Mrs. Lorimer crying as usual, Jeanie trying to comfort her. I did my best to hearten them up but you know what they are. I say, sit down!"
"No, I am going," she answered gently. "Did you get on all right this afternoon?"
"Oh yes," he said again. "By the way, we must get a wedding-present for
Ina Rose and another for Guyes. You'll come to the wedding, Avery?"
"If you wish it, dear," she said quietly.