He started up wildly, while Alma, turning quickly, saw the cause of his alarm.
‘I beg your pardon,’ said the newcomer with a curious smile. ‘I knocked at the door, but you did not hear me; so I took the liberty to enter.’
As she spoke, she advanced into the room, and stood complacently looking at the pair. The sickly smell of her favourite scent filled the air, and clung about her like incense around some Cytherean altar.
‘Do you—do you—wish to speak to me?’ murmured Bradley with a shudder.
‘Yes, if you please,’ was the quiet reply. ‘I wish to ask your advice as a clergyman, in a matter which concerns me very closely. It is a private matter, but, if you wish it, this lady may remain until I have finished.’
And she smiled significantly, fixing her black eyes on the clergyman’s face.
‘Can you not come some other time?’ he asked nervously. ‘To-day I am very busy, and not very well.’
‘I shall not detain you many minutes,’ was the reply.
Bradley turned in despair to Alma, who was looking on in no little surprise.
‘Will you leave us? I will see you later on in the day.’