"I--I beg your pardon; I'm afraid I've been smoking; if you'll allow me I'll open the windows."
He opened them; the three windows the room contained.
"You are Mr. Hooper?"
Her voice was just the kind of voice it was fitting should be hers, soft, clear, sweet; it was to him like the sound of music which he loved; and, when he heard it, off went his wits again.
"Yes, that--that is my name; yes--exactly--I--I am Mr. Hooper--yes."
"I am Nora Lindsay."
Nora! That was one of his pet names; as she pronounced it it seemed to him to be the sweetest name a woman could have; like everything about her, it became her so.
"May I--may I offer you a seat, Miss Lindsay? I--I am very glad to see you."
She sat down, with what seemed to him almost awful calmness; but she was all tremblement within, a maze of conflicting emotions, for already it was clear to her that this was quite a singular young man; only she was able to exhibit more outward self-control than he was. When she saw that he showed no immediate disposition to touch on the subject on which she had come, but seemed to be able to do nothing but fidget, she began on the theme herself.
"Eustace tells me that he mentioned to you that I am looking for a post as secretary."