This sentiment was
heartily confirmed by the clock when it marked half-past two. He faced
the bookcase doors and struck his breast, his open hand falling across
the grey tie with tragic violence; after which, turning for the last
time to the windows, he uttered a loud exclamation and, laying hands
upon an ulster and a grey felt hat, each as new as the satin tie, ran
hurriedly from the room. The black automobile was waiting.
"I thought it possible you might see me from a window," said
Mrs. Protheroe as he opened the little door.
"I was just coming out," he returned, gasping for breath. "I
thought--from yesterday--you'd probably forgotten."
"Why 'from yesterday'?" she asked.
"I thought--I thought--" He faltered to a stop as the full, glorious
sense of her presence overcame him. She wore the same veil.
"You thought I did not see you yesterday in the corridor?"
"I thought you might have acted more--more--"
"More cordially?"
"Well," he said, looking down at his hands, "more like you knew we'd
been introduced."
At that she sat silent, looking away from him, and he, daring a quick
glance at her, found that he might let his eyes remain upon her face.
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