He went swiftly back to the door leading to the staircase, and glanced through it.
"They are coming along the corridor," he said. "They will certainly come in here."
"Stand behind the screen," she gasped. "I will say no one has been here, and they will pass through into the other room. As soon as they have left the room go quickly out by the staircase."
He looked round him once, and then walked behind a tall screen of Italian leather which stood at the head of a divan.
Fay took up her book from the floor, but her numb fingers refused to hold it. She put it on the edge of the table near her, under the lamp, hid her shaking hands in the folds of her long white chiffon gown, and fixed her eyes upon the page.
The words of the dead saint swam before her eyes:
"Yea, He loveth us now as well while we are here, as He shall do while we are there afore His blessed face. But for failing of love on our part, therefore is all our travail."
There were subdued footsteps outside, a tap, the duke's voice.
"May I come in?"
"Come in," she said, but she heard no words.