"I'm helping you all I can," I said with a touch of cynicism in my voice. "You can count on me until the adventure's finished."
"You know I don't mean that," she said weakly.
"There's nothing else you can mean," I answered stubbornly.
For the space of a heart-beat we stood facing each other. I saw that she was on the verge of a breakdown, and I knew that my own resolution was failing. After all, what need was there for me to be so brutal? She had suffered more than enough for the idle words spoken in haste all those years ago. There is no knowing what might have happened had not Fate intervened. But just as things had reached breaking-strain the door-bell rang. The prosaic sound brought us back instantly to earth, and a dramatic situation, tense with possibilities, became in a moment common-place.
"There's the door-bell," Moira said calmly. "I wonder who it can be."
"Some visitor or other," I remarked.
"What visitor could it be?" she asked. "I know of no one who'd have business here."
I knew of one at least, but I did not put my thoughts into words. Instead I remarked, "Quite possibly it's some house-hunter."
We heard the maid's steps go up the hall past us. There was a whispered colloquy at the door, and then, quite distinctly, the maid's voice said, "I'll see if he is in."
"That must be me," I guessed. "I'm the only 'he' in the house."