"Go home. You are wanted."
"What!!!"
She rose and he stood up, his fascinated eyes never leaving hers.
"What were you staring at a moment ago?" he demanded. "What did you—think—you saw?"
Her eyes looked straight into his. She went to him and put both arms around his neck.
"Dearest," she said "—dearest." And kissed him on the mouth. But he dared not lay one finger on her.
The next moment she had his coat, was holding it for him. He took his hat and stick from her, turned and walked to the door, wheeled in his tracks, shivering.
And saw her crouched on the sofa, her head buried in her arms. And dared not speak.
There was an automobile standing in the street before his own house as he turned out of Fifth Avenue; lighted windows everywhere in the house, and the iron grille ajar.