"Ruby!"
She felt a hand on one of her hands. The touch finally recalled her from sleep, and she knew the morning and Nigel. He stood beside the bed in loose travelling clothes, dusty, with short, untidy hair, and a radiant brown face, looking down on her, holding her hand.
"Did I frighten you? I didn't mean to. But I thought you must be awake by now."
There was no sound of reproach in his voice, but there was perhaps just a touch of disappointment. She sat up, leaning against the big pillow.
"And I meant to be at the station to meet you!" she said.
He sat down close to the bed, still keeping his hand on hers.
"You did?"
"Of course. It's this horrid habit I've got into of lying awake at night and sleeping in the morning. And there was such a storm last night."
"I know. The ginnee were abroad."
He spoke laughingly, but she said: