For long they stood there, the girl's hand on the man's arm, but neither stirring; then with a sound perilously near a sob, the hand dropped.
"I think I'll go to bed now, How," she said.
Deliberately, instinctively, the man's arms folded across his chest. That was all.
The girl mounted the single step, paused in the doorway.
"Aren't you coming, too, How?" she queried.
"No, Bess."
A sudden suspicion came to the girl, a sudden terror.
"You aren't angry with me, are you?" she trembled.
"No, Bess," repeated.
"But still you're not coming?"