"How does he get news of you?" he asked abruptly.
"Through Mrs. Lorimer. She writes to him regularly, I believe,—either she or Jeanie. I suppose—presently—"
Avery stopped, her eyes upon the fire, her hands tightly clasped before her.
"Presently?" said Tudor.
She turned her head slightly, without moving her eyes. "Presently there will have to be some—mutual arrangement made. But I can't see my way yet. I can't consider the future at all. I feel as if night were falling. Perhaps—for me—there is no future."
"May I take your pulse?" said Tudor.
She gave him her hand in the same tired fashion. He took it gravely, feeling her pulse, his eyes upon her face.
"Have you no relations of your own?" he asked her suddenly.
She shook her head. "No one near. My parents were both only children."
"And no friends?" he said.