When Miss Darrow emerged from the dressing-room ready for the street, she found him there.
“My things are in the portmanteau,” she said, icily. “My maid will call for them. If you will permit me——”
But Burnett did not move.
“Miss Darrow——” he began.
“Will you let me pass?”
“I can’t, Miss Darrow—until you hear. I wouldn’t have had it happen for anything in the world.”
“I cannot listen. Won’t you open the door?”
He bowed his head as though better to receive her reproaches, but he did not move.
“Oh!” she cried, “how could you!” Her chin was raised, and she glanced scornfully at him from under her narrowed lids.