Her hat and gloves were thrown upon the table and she still wore a long gray cloak which was stained and damp about the hem. He saw this as soon as he saw her face, and no sooner saw than he understood.
He went to the sofa and stood a moment looking down at her, and, though he did not speak or stir, she awakened.
She sat up and pushed her cloak aside, and he spoke to her.
"It was you who brought it back," he said.
"Yes," she answered quietly. "I thought that if you saw it in the old place again, you would remember."
"You did not forget it."
"I had nothing else to think of," was her simple reply.
"I must seem a poor sort of fellow to you," he said wearily. "I am a poor sort of fellow."
"No," she said "or I should not have thought it worth while to bring it back."