He held her eyes. She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. The hotel on the Peak had the aspect of a fairy castle. He walked hastily to the side of the broad pavement and summoned a fiacre. She looked at him mournfully. Through her door curtain she could see the light from the study lamp. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed.
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