“Too late,” he muttered. Then aloud, “Come in!” and Keren-Happuch entered.
“If you please, sir, there’s—”
“I know,” he said shortly. “Show them up.”
“Please, sir, it ain’t them; it’s her.”
“What?” he cried, starting. “Whom do you mean?”
“Her in the thick veil, sir, as come before.”
“Great Heavens!” panted Armstrong; and his brain seemed to reel. “No. I cannot—I will not see her.”
“’M I to tell her so, sir?” cried the girl joyfully, “and send her away?”
“Yes. I’ll go no farther,” he muttered. “Send her away at once.”
The girl turned to the door, but, when she twisted the handle, it moved in her hand, the door was pushed against her, and as she gave way, the closely veiled and cloaked figure walked slowly into the room.