At Dangeau's knock, followed almost immediately by his entrance, her hands dropped into her lap, and she looked up in a scared panic of realisation. All that she had kept at bay rushed in upon her; the little tasks which she had set as barriers between her and thought fell away into the past, leaving her face to face with her husband and the future.
He crossed the floor to her quickly, and took her hands. He felt them tremble, and put them to his lips.
"Aline, my dearest!" he said in a low, vibrating voice.
With a quick-caught breath she drew away from him, sore trouble in her eyes.
"Wait!" she panted. Oh, where was her courage? Why had she not thought, planned? What could she say? "Oh, please wait!"
There was a long pause, whilst he held her hands and looked into her face.
"There is something—something I must tell you," she murmured at last, her colour coming and going.
The pressure upon her hands became suddenly agonising.
"Ah, mon Dieu! he has not harmed you? Aline, Aline—for God's sake——"
She said, "No, no," hastily, relieved to have something to answer, wondering that he should be so moved, frightened by the great sob that shook him. Then—