But that upset him.
"If you can't do me so small a favour in my suffering—"
"Forgive me," she said, "it was only my anxiety for you—"
She got up and opened the French window that gave upon a narrow balcony.
The moonlight flooded the room.
Pressing her hands to her breast, she inhaled the first aromatic breath of the night air which cooled and caressed her hot face.
"Is it better so?" she asked, turning around.
He nodded. "It is better so."
Then she stepped out on the balcony. She could scarcely drink her fill of air and moonlight.
But she drew back, affrighted. What she had just seen was like an apparition.