Presently she rose.
Nigel rubbed his eyes, leapt from the sofa, and found his ball.
She moved toward the window.
The man without stepped back into the shadow.
Nigel had flung the ball at his mother, and fallen over his father’s legs. The three were laughing and shouting together.
She came to the open casement, pushed it wider, and leaned out.
She spoke, very quietly, into the fragrant darkness; the faintest whisper, yet he heard.
“I was expecting you”.... Her voice was like the night-wind in the tops of the pine trees; soft as a sigh, and full of mystery. “Do not go.... You will find a chair in the corner on your right. Wait there until I am alone.”
She drew back into the room, and closed the casement.
He sank into the chair and sat there in the silence, listening to the beating of his heart. It sounded like heavy breakers pounding upon the rocks below.