Shiela's maid opened, hesitated; and a moment later Shiela appeared, fully dressed, a book in her hand. It was one of Hamil's architectural volumes.
"Well, Shiela," he said lightly; "I got in to-night and rather expected to see somebody; but nobody waited up to see me! I'm rather wet—it's raining—so I won't trouble you. I only wanted to say good night."
The quick displeasure in her face died out. She dismissed the maid, and came slowly forward. Beneath the light her face looked much thinner; he noticed dark shadows under the eyes; the eyes themselves seemed tired and expressionless.
"Aren't you well?" he asked bluntly.
"Perfectly.... Was it you the dogs were so noisy about just now?"
"Yes; it seems that even my own dogs resent my return. Well—good night. I'm glad you're all right."
Something in his voice, more than in the words, arrested her listless attention.
"Will you come in, Louis?"
"I'm afraid I'm keeping you awake. Besides I'm wet—"
"Come in and tell me where you've been—if you care to. Would you like some tea—or something?"