'Of course. I'm afraid the wet 'll drip off my cloak on to the floor.'
'Take it off, then, and put it here by the fire to dry.'
He helped her to divest herself, and hung the cloak on to the back of a chair.
'You may as well sit down. Shall I give you a glass of wine?'
'Oh, indeed, no! No, thank you!'
'I think you'd better have one,' he said, without heeding her. 'I suppose you've got your feet wet? I can't very well ask you to take your shoes off.'
'Oh, they're not wet anything to speak of,' said Jessie, settling herself in a chair, as if her visit were the most ordinary event. She watched him pour the wine, putting on the face of a child who is going to be treated to something reserved for grown-up persons.
'What do they mean by sending you all this distance in such weather?' Dagworthy said, as he seated himself and extended his legs, resting an elbow on the table.
'They didn't send me. I offered to come, and mother wouldn't hear of it.'
'Well—?'