She did not answer him; she sat quite still with her eyes fixed upon the ground.
He looked at her for several moments in silence, and his mood began to change. What spirit had possessed him to talk as he had done?
She rose to her feet at length, and raised her eyes timidly to his face. Whether she was angry or disgusted, or only sorry, he could not tell.
He rose also, but he scarcely dared to look at her.
"Good-afternoon," she said at length; and she held out her hand to him.
"Good-afternoon," he answered; but he did not take her outstretched hand, he pretended not even to see it.
He stood still and watched her walk away out into the level sunshine; watched her till she seemed but a speck of colour in the hazy distance. Then, with a sigh, he turned his face towards the City. He still felt more or less like one in a dream: there seemed to be an air of unreality about everything. Perhaps he would come to himself directly and discover that he was not in London at all.
He did not return to his hotel until nearly bedtime. The porter handed him a letter which came soon after he went out.
It was from Sir John Liskeard, and requested that Ralph would call on him again at his rooms in the Temple on the following morning, any time between ten and half-past. No reason was given why Sir John wanted this second interview.
Ralph stood staring at the letter for several moments, then slowly put it back into the envelope, and into his pocket.