She had no words in which to answer it. The world had turned upside down, she could not reason, could not think out what this might ultimately mean for her. She could not grasp the fact of her husband's complete change of front. Seated in the old chair, worn shiny with many years of usage, she laid her hands upon its arms and lifted her eyes to his, first in wonder, then in a gladness which shone out in a smile that transfigured her pale face. He was quite near—almost stooping over her, and he held his breath with the intensity of the thrill that ran through him.
"O-o-oh!" she cooed tremulously. "Oh, Osbert!"
The sound of his name so moved him that he almost lost control. It sounded like a caress, it was as if she had kissed him. He told himself that he would count up the times she said it, from now until his final exit—treasure them in his mind and call them kisses.
At this moment the gong for dinner boomed in the hall. It brought both of them back with a start to the present moment. Virgie put her hands to her eyes as if she had been dreaming. The man was first of all uncomfortably conscious of riding breeches and gaiters.
"Good heavens, dinner, and I haven't dressed! I can't sit down with you like this!"
"Oh, yes, please do," she said, rising from her seat with a new gaiety, as though a weight had rolled away.
"Please don't keep me waiting while you dress, I am so hungry, and I want to show you my fine new appetite! Besides, Grover is sure to drive me upstairs at an unearthly hour, she has been clucking after me all day like an old mother hen, because, you see, I actually got out of bed to travel! So don't waste any more time, but just come in as you are."
"I'll wash my hands—shan't be five minutes," he stammered out, the sudden, everyday intimacy breaking upon him like a fiery, hitherto untasted source of bliss. "Wait for me, won't you?"