“I don’t want coffee to-night. I want stronger drink. I want to get drunk with liberty of life.”
Suddenly there was a noise at the window and the woman looked up, startled, and cried, “Who is there?”
Gerald Bradshaw appeared at the open French window leading on to the balcony, and he spoke through the window.
“It is I, Clare? Are you alone?”
Clare had risen from her chair at the sound of his voice, and her face became very pale.
“Gerald... How did you come there?”
Gerald Bradshaw laughed in his lighthearted way.
“I stepped over the bar that divides our balconies. It was quite easy. It was as easy as it will be to cross the bar that divides you and me, Clare.”
Clare spoke in a frightened voice.
“Why do you come here, at this hour?”