Kettering coloured; he tried to refuse; he wanted to refuse; but somehow her brown eyes would not let him; somehow——
"I shall be delighted," he heard himself say.
He had not meant to say it; he would have given a great deal to recall the words as soon as they were spoken, but it was too late. Another moment and they were in the house.
He looked round him with a sense of great pleasure. It seemed a lifetime since he had been here; it was like coming home again to be here and with the woman he loved. He looked at little Christine with wistful eyes.
"Gladys is out," she said, "so you will have to put up with me alone; do you mind?"
"Do I mind!" She coloured beneath his gaze; her heart was beating fast.
He followed her across the hall. He knew he was doing the weak thing; knew that he ought to turn on his heel and go away, but he knew that he intended staying.
An hour with Christine alone; it was worth risking something for to have that. Christine opened the drawing-room door.
"We'll have tea here," she said; "it's much more cosy. I——"
She stopped dead; her voice broke off into silence with a curious little jarring sound.