They stood speaking in the hall, outside the parlour door.
"Where is your book?" he said.
"Inside. I am sorry you have come round for nothing; she'll be so disappointed when she hears about it. May I tell her you'll come again to-morrow?"
"Yes, I'll look in some time during the day, if it's only for a moment. I think I'll sit down awhile before I go."
"Will you?" she said. "I beg your pardon." She opened the door, and he followed her into the room.
"You won't mind my leaving you?" she asked; "I don't want to stay away, in case she does wake."
It was nearly dark in the parlour; the lamp had not been lighted, and the fire was low. A little snow whitened the laburnum-tree that was visible through the window. It was an evening in January, and Mary had been in Westport now nearly two years.
"Can you see to find it?" he said. "Where did you leave it?"
"It was on the sideboard; Ellen must have moved it, I suppose. I'll ask her where she's put it."
"No, don't do that; I'll light the lamp."