He took a cigarette from the box and offered it to her, but she did not hold out her hand to take it, and he understood that he was to place it between her lips. His fingers trembled as he did so, and he turned hurriedly to find the matches.
"Behind you," she said, and he turned and picked them up.
He lit a match and held it to her cigarette, and while he held it, her fingers touched his. She had taken hold of the cigarette to remove it from her lips.... He blew out the light and threw the match into the ash-tray, and then went and sat down in the deep chair in which he had been sitting when she asked him to get the cushion for her.
"Why didn't you call before?" she said, lazily blowing the smoke up into the air.
It was difficult to say why he had not called before, so he answered vaguely. There had been so much to do of late....
"And Gilbert? He doesn't rehearse all day long, does he?"
"No, not all day, but he's pretty tired by the time he gets home."
"Why didn't he come to the Savoy that night?" she asked.
He wished she would not talk about Gilbert. He could not tell her the real reason why Gilbert had not kept his promise to join the supper-party and he was a poor hand at inventing convincing lies.
"There was some trouble at his office, I think," he said, "and he couldn't get away until too late!..."