The door closed behind her. Field stood motionless. She advanced with slight hesitation.
"I hope you will forgive me," she said, "for intruding upon you."
Her voice was rich and deep. It held a throb of nervousness. Field came deliberately forward.
"I presume I can be of use to you," he said.
His tone was dry. There was scant encouragement about him as he drew forward a chair.
She hesitated momentarily before accepting it, but finally sat down with a gesture that seemed to indicate physical weakness of some sort.
"Yes, I want your help," she said.
Field said nothing. His face was the face of the trained man of law. It expressed naught beyond a steady, impersonal attention.
He drew up another chair and seated himself facing her.
She looked at him through her veil for several seconds in silence. Finally, with manifest effort, she spoke.