But for these things they went through their first day in silence, like people who respect each other's grief too profoundly for any speech.
In the evening they sat together in the drawing-room. There was nothing more to do.
Then he spoke. He asked to see Peggy. His voice was so low that she did not hear him.
"What did you say, Walter?"
He had to say it again. "Where is she? Can I see her?"
His voice was still low, and it was thick and uncertain, but this time she understood.
"In Edie's room," she said. "Nanna has the key."
She did not go with him.
When he came back to her she was still cold and torpid. He could understand that her grief had frozen her.
At night she parted from him without a word.