She nodded silently, not trusting herself to speak.
“Thank you,” he said curtly, and then Audrey Maynard's gay voice broke across the tension of the moment.
“Mr. Trent, I simply cannot allow Sara to monopolize you any longer. Now that we have succeeded in dragging the hermit out of his shell, we all want a share of his society, please.”
Trent turned instantly, and Sara slipped across the room and took the place Audrey had vacated by Miles's couch. He greeted her coming with a smile, but there were shadows of fatigue beneath his eyes, and his lips were rather white and drawn-looking.
“This is a lazy way to receive visitors, isn't it?” he said apologetically. “But my game leg's given out to-day, so you must forgive me.”
Sara's glance swept his face with quick sympathy.
“You oughtn't to be at the 'party' at all,” she said. “You look far too tired to be bothered with a parcel of chattering women.”
He smiled.
“Do you know,” he whispered humorously, “that, although you're quite the four nicest women I know, the shameful truth is that I'm really here on behalf of the one man! I met him yesterday in the town and booked him for this afternoon, and, having at last dislodged him from his lone pinnacle, I hadn't the heart to leave him unsupported.”
“No. I'm glad you dug him out, Miles. It was clever of you.”