Lady Eliza sat still. He stood by the settee holding out his hand. His lips were shaking, but there was a steadiness in his voice and a measured tone that told of great control.
‘Good-night,’ he said. ‘I left my horse in the stable. I will walk out myself and fetch him.’
He turned to go to the door. She watched him till he had almost reached it.
‘Fullarton!’ she cried suddenly; ‘come back!’
He looked round, but stood still in his place.
‘Come back; I must speak—I must tell you!’
He did not move, so she rose and stood between him and the fire, a grotesque enough figure in the dancing light.
‘I know everything; I have always known it. Do you think I did not understand what had come to you in those days? Ah! I know now—yes, more than ever, now I have seen him. He has a look that I would have known anywhere, Robert.’
He made an inarticulate sound as though he were about to speak.
She held up her hand.