"He came in not ten minutes ago. Mr. Leslie Wrandall is also here. Shall I tell Mr. Wrandall you wish to see him?"
"You may tell him, that I am here, if you please," she said.
"I am very sorry about the ink wells, madam," murmured the clerk. "We—we were not expecting—"
"Pray don't let it disturb you, Mr. Bancroft. I shall not use them to-day."
"They will be properly filled by to-morrow."
"Thank you."
He disappeared. She relaxed in the familiar, comfortable old leather-cushioned chair, and closed her eyes. There was a sharp little line between them, but it was hidden by the veil.
The door opened slowly and Redmond Wrandall came into the room. She arose at once.
"This is—er—an unexpected pleasure, Sara," he said, perplexed and ill-at-ease. He stopped just inside the door he had been careful to close behind him, and did not offer her his hand.
"I came down to attend to some business, Mr. Wrandall," she said.