He had said it aloud and the sound of his voice in the silent room—awakened all his faculties. Suddenly he was aware of other sounds outside. There was a rumble of wheels and the rattle of a hansom. The hansom came nearer and nearer. It stopped in the outside courtyard. There was the noise of a curb-chain as if the horse were shaking its head. The doors of the hansom opened with a creak and banged back on their spring. A voice, a woman's voice, said “Good-night!” and another voice, a man's voice, answered, “Good-night and thank you, miss!” Then the cab wheels turned and went off. All his senses seemed to have gone into his ears, and in the silence of that quiet place he heard everything. He rose to his feet and stood waiting.
After a moment there was the sound of a key in the lock of the door below; the rustle of a woman's dress coming up the stairs, an odour of perfume in the air, an atmosphere of freshness and health, and then the door of the room which had been ajar was swung open and there on the threshold with her languid and tired but graceful movements was she herself, Glory. Then his head turned giddy and he could neither hear nor see.
When Glory saw him standing by the lamp, with his deadly pale face, she stood a moment in speechless astonishment, and passed her hand across her eyes as if to wipe out a vision. After that she clutched at a chair and made a faint cry.
“Oh, is it you?” she said in a voice which she strove to control. “How you frightened me! Whoever would have thought of seeing you here!”
He was trying to answer, but his tongue would not obey him, and his silence alarmed her.
“I suppose Liza let you in—where is Liza?”
“Gone to bed,” he said in a thick voice.
“And Rosa—have you seen Rosa?”
“No.”
“Of course not! How could you? She must be at the office, and won't be back for hours. So you see we are quite alone!”