At the end of the second song he was sure he heard the singer's light footsteps travel to the door overhead, linger there, then return more slowly. The heart in his breast waxed big with gladness. "You blessed little darling!" he thought. "If it's true you want me, God knows you can have me for a gift!"
Yet he let her sing another song before he stirred. He bade Miss Sisson good-night and went deliberately upstairs. She had stopped singing now. He knocked on the door.
She took her time about opening it. "Oh, it's you!" she said.
"Good evening," said Evan.
"Good evening," she returned with a rising inflection that suggested: "Well, what do you want?"
Evan was a bit dashed. His instinct told him, though, that he must put his fate to the test. In other words, he must find out for sure whether she detested him, or was simply being maidenly. She had not thrown the door open to its fullest extent, but Evan, gauging the space, figured that he could just slip in without actually pushing her out of the way. He did so.
She faced about in high indignation. "Well! You might at least wait until you are invited!" she said.
Evan had no wish to anger her too far. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said innocently. "I thought you meant me to come in." He turned towards the door again.
"Oh, well, as long as you're here I'm not going to turn you out," she said casually. "But your manners aren't much." She closed the door.
"It's all right!" thought Evan happily.