'You find me in a state of disorder, Mrs. Dalmaine,' he said. 'Pray excuse it; I start on a long journey to-morrow morning.'
Paula murmured phrases. She was hot, and wished in her heart that she had not done this crazy thing; really she could not quite say why she had done it.
'So you're going to America again, Mr. Egremont?'
'Yes.'
'I heard so. I knew you wouldn't come to say good-bye to me, so I came to you.'
She was looking about for signs of female occupation; none whatever were discoverable.
'You are kind.'
'I won't stay, of course. You are very busy—'
'I hope you will let me give you a cup of tea?'
'Oh no, thank you. It was only just to speak a word—and to ask you to forget some very bad behaviour of mine. You know what I mean, of course. I was ashamed of myself, but I couldn't help it. I'm so glad I came just in time to see you; I should have been awfully vexed if I—if I couldn't have asked you to forgive me.'