He laughed in the utter hopelessness of it all.
"Dear, I cannot come to you unless—he comes."
At that the colour came back into her face.
Suddenly she stooped, touched his hands swiftly with her lips—the very ghost of contact—turned, and was gone.
Hallam's voice was hearty and amiable; also he welcomed her with a smile; but there seemed to be something hard in his eyes as he said:
"I began to be afraid that you'd gone to sleep, Ailsa. What the deuce has kept you? A sick man?"
"Y-es; he is—better—I think."
"That's good. I've only a minute or two left, and I wanted to speak—if you'll let me—about——"
"Can't you come again next week?" she asked.
"Well—of course, I'll do my best. I wanted to speak——"