'All right?' he inquired, shaking it heartily, as if it had been a man's.
A sweet low voice answered him.
'Yes—all right,' it said, as if nothing could ever be wrong with its possessor. 'But you?' it asked directly afterwards, in a tone of sympathetic anxiety.
'I? Oh—well—' Mr. Van Torp's incomplete answer might have meant anything, except that he too was 'all right.'
'Yes,' said the lady gravely. 'I read the telegram the next day. Did you get my cable? I did not think you would sail.'
'Yes, I got your cable. Thank you. Well—I did sail, you see. Take off your things. The water's boiling and we'll have tea in a minute.'
The lady undid the fastening at her throat so that the fur-lined cloak opened and slipped a little on her white shoulders. She held it in place with one hand, and with the other she carefully turned back the lace hood from her face, so as not to disarrange her hair. Mr. Van Torp was making tea, and he looked up at her over the teapot.
'I dressed for dinner,' she said, explaining.
'Well,' said Mr. Van Torp, looking at her, 'I should think you did!'
There was real admiration in his tone, though it was distinctly reluctant.