"What does it matter? I've made them quite nice already. He's perfectly comfortable."
"I'm glad. It's all—it's all been such a pity—about to-day, I mean."
"Don't let's think of it! Don't let's think of it any more."
A passionate sound had stolen into her voice. She moved a step towards him. A sudden idea had come to her, an idea that stirred within her a great happiness, that made a flame of joy spring up in her heart.
"Maurice, you—you——"
"What is it?" he asked.
"You aren't vexed at my staying away so long? You aren't vexed at my bringing Emile back with me?"
"No, of course not," he said. "But—but I wish you hadn't gone away."
And then he disappeared into the sitting-room, collected the rugs and cushions, opened the French window, and went out upon the terrace. Presently he called out:
"I shall sleep as I am, Hermione, without undressing. I'm awfully done. Good-night."