She surveyed the pretty little parlour, furnished in a clever imitation of the Georgian era. From among the chairs she selected two. Then, changing her mind, she chose a small couch, with room for two to sit upon it. She brought forward a little table, put some magazines upon it, opened one and became so absorbed in the sketch of a Paris gown which it contained that she started annoyingly at the voice of the page-boy announcing her visitor.
Osbert Gaunt walked in. Her first thought was that, changed though he was, she should have known him anywhere. Certainly his was a personality not easy to forget. He was dark complexioned by nature, and, as he lived in the open air, he was also much tanned. His coal-black hair was slightly softened with grey at the temples, but his moustache was raven black, and it altered his appearance to something curiously unlike her memory of the keen young boyish face. He walked with the limp which she remembered well, and as they shook hands his glance swept over her from head to foot, appraising and, as it seemed, condemning, for his lip curled into a sneer.
He was perfectly self-possessed. The lady was genuinely agitated.
"I trust that I am punctual to your appointment, madam," he said drily.
They were alone in the room. She noticed that with thankfulness, even while she realised how entirely the man had the advantage over her. To her, this interview meant everything. To him, apparently, very little. She was so much affected that she sat down at once, making a little appealing movement with her hand that he should sit beside her, as she murmured: "Oh, Osbert, you are good to come ... and you are so little changed."
He replied, with indifference that amounted to discourtesy: "I came to suit my own convenience; and I have changed completely."
With this preliminary amenity he looked around, chose a chair, brought it forward, and sat down facing her. His rudeness was so disconcerting that she forgot her part, and spoke confusedly:
"Oh no, indeed, you have not changed; you always used to contradict. That was part of your temperament."
"Pardon me, I am not here to discuss my temperament. I have come on business."
She made a little deprecating sound, as though he had hurt her. "Oh, Osbert, this is dreadful! Dreadful! If I had expected this, I would not have appealed to you. How could I dream that you would have remained unforgiving all these years?"