The Warden slowly rose from his seat. "I must go now, Lena," he said, "but I shall come in again the last thing. I shall come in without knocking if I may, because I hope you will be asleep, and I don't want to wake you."
"Very well," she said smiling. "You'll find me asleep. I feel so calm, so happy."
He bent down and kissed her and then went to the door. She turned her head and looked after him. Louise was at the door.
"Monsieur Bingham is arrived," she said; "I regret to have disturbed Monsieur."
The Warden walked slowly down the corridor. There was something that he dreaded, something that was going to happen—the first meeting of the eyes—the first moment when May Dashwood would look at him, knowing all that had happened!
He passed the table again on which lay his letters. He would look through all that pile of correspondence after Bingham had gone.
Robinson was hovering at the stairhead. "Mr. Bingham is in the drawing-room, sir."
"Alone?" asked the Warden.
"Mrs. Dashwood is there, sir," said Robinson.
"How have you arranged the table?" asked the Warden.