He had recognized her step and had been about to speak to her; but at the sound of her voice he stopped the words on his lips and changed them into a direction for the nurse to leave the room.
He waited until the nurse had left and closed the door behind her. Harriet saw that, in his familiarity with her tones and every inflection of her voice, he had sensed already that something unusual had occurred; she repeated, however, her question as to what he wanted.
"That does not matter now, Harriet. Where have you been?"
"I have been walking with Mr. Eaton."
"What happened?"
She hesitated. "Mr. Eaton was almost run down by a motor-car."
"Ah! An accident?"
She hesitated again. She had seen on her father's face the slight heightening of his color which, with him, was the only outward sign that marked some triumph of his own mind; his blind eyes, abstracted and almost always motionless, never showed anything at all.
"Mr. Eaton said it was an accident," she answered.
"But you?"