The music-master looked round the obscurely lit room, and bowed to the recumbent figure on the sofa.
“I fear I disturb you, madam, at an inconvenient time.”
“I am suffering from illness, Mr. Le Frank; but I am able to receive you—as you see.”
She stopped there. Now, when she saw him, and heard him, some perverse hesitation in her began to doubt him. Now, when it was too late, she weakly tried to put herself on her guard. What a decay of energy (she felt it herself) in the ready and resolute woman, equal to any emergency at other times! “To what am I to attribute the favour of your visit?” she resumed.
Even her voice failed her: it faltered in spite of her efforts to steady it. Mr. Le Frank’s vanity drew its own encouraging conclusion from this one circumstance.
“I am anxious to know how I stand in your estimation,” he replied. “Early this evening, I left a few lines here, enclosing a letter—with my compliments. Have you received the letter?”
“Yes.”
“Have you read it?”
Mrs. Gallilee hesitated. Mr. Le Frank smiled.
“I won’t trouble you, madam, for any more direct reply,” he said; “I will speak plainly. Be so good as to tell me plainly, on your side, which I am—a man who has disgraced himself by stealing a letter? or a man who has distinguished himself by doing you a service?”