She was quite still, quite motionless, behind his chair. He turned a little, so as to see her face, and laid his hand upon hers.
"Will you come round here and tell me, Miss Faith? I shall not let you stand up all the evening."
She was looking, when he saw her, with the least bit of a smile upon a mouth all unbent, and eyes that were full; a very happy, stirred face. It quieted down as soon as he turned; except the smile which played rather more.
"Tell you what, Mr. Linden?" she said not leaving her place.
"What have I done to make myself such an ogre?"
"What is an ogre, Mr. Linden?"
"A ferocious sort of anomaly that everybody is afraid of."
"I don't know what you've done, Mr. Linden," she said half laughing. "I am not enough afraid to hurt anything."
"Enough to hurt me—I don't care about any other thing."
A grave glance of her eye was regretful enough.