It was one o’clock; the fire had died out and she began to shiver with cold. But a trembling of joy at the same time went through her limbs; again she had the sense of exultation, of triumph. She would not dismiss him peremptorily. He should prove the quality of his love, if love it were. Coming so late, the experience must yield her all it had to yield of delight and contentment.
CHAPTER XV
THE JOYS OF HOME
Monica and her husband, on leaving the house in Queen’s Road, walked slowly in the eastward direction. Though night had fallen, the air was not unpleasant; they had no object before them, and for five minutes they occupied themselves with their thoughts. Then Widdowson stopped.
“Shall we go home again?” he asked, just glancing at Monica, then letting his eyes stray vaguely in the gloom.
“I should like to see Milly, but I’m afraid I can hardly take you there to call with me.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a very poor little sitting-room, you know, and she might have some friend. Isn’t there anywhere you could go, and meet me afterwards?”
Frowning, Widdowson looked at his watch.
“Nearly six o’clock. There isn’t much time.”