"Must you?"
"I think I'd better."
"Very well."
He waited, but she did not touch the bell button. She seemed to be waiting for him to go; so he offered his hand, pleasantly, and turned away toward the hall. And, rising leisurely, she descended the stairs with him in silence.
"Good-night," he said again.
"Good-night. I am sorry you are going."
"Did you wish me to remain a little longer?"
"I—don't know what I wish...."
Her cheeks were deeply flushed; the hand he took into his again seemed burning.
"It's fearfully hot in here," she said. "Please muffle up warmly because it's bitter weather out doors"—and she lifted the other hand as though unconsciously and passed her finger tips over his fur collar.