Vera, in her hat and jacket, stood facing me a few yards away. She was extremely pale. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and I saw at once she had been weeping.
For a moment neither of us spoke. Then, pulling myself together—
“Why, darling, what are you doing here?” I asked.
She did not answer. Her big, blue, unfathomable eyes were set on mine. There was in them an expression I had not seen there before—an odd, unnatural look, which made me feel uncomfortable.
“What are you doing here?” I repeated. “Why did you call upon me with Davies?”
Her lips moved, but no words came. I went over and took her hand. It was quite cold.
Suddenly she spoke slowly, and hoarsely, but like some one in a trance.
“I cannot tell you,” she said simply. “I wanted to see you.”
“Oh, but you must!”
Her eyes met mine, and I saw her arched brows contract slightly.