But still he did not come. After a moment, he said:
"It's awfully hot to-night!"
"After Africa it seems quite cool to me."
"Does it? I've been—since you've been away I've been sleeping nearly always out-of-doors on the terrace."
Now he came to the doorway and stood there. He looked at the white room, at Hermione. She had on a white tea-gown. It seemed to him that everything here was white, everything but his soul. He felt as if he could not come into this room, could not sleep here to-night, as if it would be a desecration. When he stood in the doorway the painful shyness returned to her.
"Have you?" she said.
"Yes."
"Do you—would you rather sleep there to-night?"
She did not mean to say it. It was the last thing she wished to say. Yet she said it. It seemed to her that she was forced to say it.
"Well, it's much cooler there."