She had not expected it, and she felt for an instant as if a master hand had touched her, sending the blood tingling through her veins like fire. She sent a reply in the affirmative; and then set herself to face the longest day she had ever lived through.
She sat alone during the afternoon, striving desperately to nerve herself for the ordeal. But strive as she might, the fact remained that she was horribly, painfully frightened. There was something about this man which it seemed futile to resist, something that dominated her, something against which it hurt her to fight.
She heard his ring punctually upon the stroke of five, and she went herself to answer it.
He greeted her with his usual serenity of manner.
"All alone?" he asked, as he followed her into the little drawing-room in which he had proposed to her so short a time before.
She assented nervously.
"Jerry went into the city. He won't be back yet."
"That's kind of you," said Kenyon quietly.
She did not ask him to sit down. They faced each other on the hearthrug. The strong glare of the electric light showed him that she was very pale.
Abruptly he thrust out his hand to her.