She is guilty of serious skipping, and as steps are heard in the hall below, glances at the finish.
A sigh of relief escapes her.
"Oh, I am glad she didn't! I am glad she is saved!" exclaims Mrs. Lane involuntarily, rising, as she thinks, to meet Nelson, since this is his hour to return.
Instead, Philip stands before her, white as a corpse. His haggard features are accentuated by the mellow lamp light, his figure sways, tottering till he steadies himself by grasping the back of a chair.
He has not tasted food that day, and she fancies he looks shrunken, marvelling at his altered appearance.
She dares not ask him what has happened, but just gazes with wondering sympathy into his miserable eyes.
"It has come," he gasps, passing one hand over his brow.
"What?" murmurs Erminie, under her breath.
"Eleanor and Quinton—they have gone together."
His voice vibrates through the room. A gasp of horror escapes Mrs. Lane. She staggers back.