"Never mind," she answered dully. "Come in if you like."
He hesitated, then stepped through, and let the curtain fall behind him.
"May I sit here?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Why not?" Her voice was colorless. "Only please speak softly. Don't wake Lawrence."
"He'll feel better after his sleep, I think."
"I hope so."
He sat looking down into her dark, clouded eyes. There was something so tragic, so sad, and so submissive in them that he was filled with utter tenderness.
"Claire," he whispered, "what is the matter?"
"Nothing. I'm quite well."
"You look absolutely desolate."