In the end she curtailed her visit and returned unexpectedly by train.
She had sent a telegram informing Hallam when to expect her; and she found him on the platform waiting for her, and was struck immediately by the change in him. Her heart sank within her, but she forced a smile to her lips and accompanied him out of the station and got into the waiting taxi. He opened the door for her, fumbling with the catch with unsteady fingers, and got in after her and sat down heavily.
“It didn’t take you long to discover that home’s the best place,” he remarked, with a sideways furtive look at her. “How did you find them all? Jim still grousing, I suppose? And the small boy a perennial note of interrogation?”
“Everything was much the same,” she answered in a dispirited voice. “They were all a little older in appearance, and the children have grown tremendously. I wish you had been with me. Rose was hurt, I think, because you did not go.”
“Oh, really! I should have thought she would have felt relieved.”
“Why?”
He disregarded the question. Abruptly he put out an unsteady hand and laid it upon hers.
“Tired?” he asked.
“A little.” She twisted her hand round in her lap and her fingers closed upon his. “What have you been doing during my absence?”
“Mainly missing you,” he answered. “A reversion to one’s bachelor days is a dull sort of holiday.”