"What!" cried Tony, looking at her in rapture, "what, you are free?" At his heart there was triumph, excitement, wonder, all blending with the bigger emotion.
He heard himself ask her eagerly: "Why, why did you do this?"
There were tears on her eyelids.
His face flushing, his eyes illumined, he looked down on her and lifted her face to him in both his hands.
"Why?"
"I think you know," she murmured, her lips trembling.
He gave a cry, and as he was about again to embrace her they heard Dearborn's step upon the stairs.
Mrs. Faversham was in the window looking out upon Paris, and Fairfax was modelling on his study when the playwright came in with a can of milk, some madeleines and a pot of jam.
After she had gone he wanted to escape and be alone, but Dearborn chatted, pacing the studio, whilst Fairfax dressed and shaved, praising the visitor.