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The
thought
of
food
filled
her
with
repugnance
;
but
not
daring
to
confess
it
she
smoothed
her
hair
and
followed
him
to
the
lift
.
An
hour
later
,
coming
out
of
the
glare
of
the
dining
-
room
,
she
waited
in
the
marble
-
panelled
hall
while
Mr
.
Royall
,
before
the
brass
lattice
of
one
of
the
corner
counters
,
selected
a
cigar
and
bought
an
evening
paper
.
Men
were
lounging
in
rocking
chairs
under
the
blazing
chandeliers
,
travellers
coming
and
going
,
bells
ringing
,
porters
shuffling
by
with
luggage
.
Over
Mr
.
Royall
’
s
shoulder
,
as
he
leaned
against
the
counter
,
a
girl
with
her
hair
puffed
high
smirked
and
nodded
at
a
dapper
drummer
who
was
getting
his
key
at
the
desk
across
the
hall
.
Charity
stood
among
these
cross
-
currents
of
life
as
motionless
and
inert
as
if
she
had
been
one
of
the
tables
screwed
to
the
marble
floor
.
All
her
soul
was
gathered
up
into
one
sick
sense
of
coming
doom
,
and
she
watched
Mr
.
Royall
in
fascinated
terror
while
he
pinched
the
cigars
in
successive
boxes
and
unfolded
his
evening
paper
with
a
steady
hand
.
Presently
he
turned
and
joined
her
.
“
You
go
right
along
up
to
bed
—
I
’
m
going
to
sit
down
here
and
have
my
smoke
,
”
he
said
.
He
spoke
as
easily
and
naturally
as
if
they
had
been
an
old
couple
,
long
used
to
each
other
’
s
ways
,
and
her
contracted
heart
gave
a
flutter
of
relief
.
She
followed
him
to
the
lift
,
and
he
put
her
in
and
enjoined
the
buttoned
and
braided
boy
to
show
her
to
her
room
.
She
groped
her
way
in
through
the
darkness
,
forgetting
where
the
electric
button
was
,
and
not
knowing
how
to
manipulate
it
.
But
a
white
autumn
moon
had
risen
,
and
the
illuminated
sky
put
a
pale
light
in
the
room
.
By
it
she
undressed
,
and
after
folding
up
the
ruffled
pillow
-
slips
crept
timidly
under
the
spotless
counterpane
.
She
had
never
felt
such
smooth
sheets
or
such
light
warm
blankets
;
but
the
softness
of
the
bed
did
not
soothe
her
.
She
lay
there
trembling
with
a
fear
that
ran
through
her
veins
like
ice
.
“
What
have
I
done
?
Oh
,
what
have
I
done
?
”
she
whispered
,
shuddering
to
her
pillow
;
and
pressing
her
face
against
it
to
shut
out
the
pale
landscape
beyond
the
window
she
lay
in
the
darkness
straining
her
ears
,
and
shaking
at
every
footstep
that
approached
.
.
.
.
Suddenly
she
sat
up
and
pressed
her
hands
against
her
frightened
heart
.
A
faint
sound
had
told
her
that
someone
was
in
the
room
;
but
she
must
have
slept
in
the
interval
,
for
she
had
heard
no
one
enter
.
The
moon
was
setting
beyond
the
opposite
roofs
,
and
in
the
darkness
outlined
against
the
grey
square
of
the
window
,
she
saw
a
figure
seated
in
the
rocking
-
chair
.
The
figure
did
not
move
:
it
was
sunk
deep
in
the
chair
,
with
bowed
head
and
folded
arms
,
and
she
saw
that
it
was
Mr
.
Royall
who
sat
there
.
He
had
not
undressed
,
but
had
taken
the
blanket
from
the
foot
of
the
bed
and
laid
it
across
his
knees
.
Trembling
and
holding
her
breath
she
watched
him
,
fearing
that
he
had
been
roused
by
her
movement
;
but
he
did
not
stir
,
and
she
concluded
that
he
wished
her
to
think
he
was
asleep
.
As
she
continued
to
watch
him
ineffable
relief
stole
slowly
over
her
,
relaxing
her
strained
nerves
and
exhausted
body
.
He
knew
,
then
.
.
.
he
knew
.
.
.
it
was
because
he
knew
that
he
had
married
her
,
and
that
he
sat
there
in
the
darkness
to
show
her
she
was
safe
with
him
.
A
stir
of
something
deeper
than
she
had
ever
felt
in
thinking
of
him
flitted
through
her
tired
brain
,
and
cautiously
,
noiselessly
,
she
let
her
head
sink
on
the
pillow
.
.
.
.
When
she
woke
the
room
was
full
of
morning
light
,
and
her
first
glance
showed
her
that
she
was
alone
in
it
.
She
got
up
and
dressed
,
and
as
she
was
fastening
her
dress
the
door
opened
,
and
Mr
.
Royall
came
in
.
He
looked
old
and
tired
in
the
bright
daylight
,
but
his
face
wore
the
same
expression
of
grave
friendliness
that
had
reassured
her
on
the
Mountain
.
It
was
as
if
all
the
dark
spirits
had
gone
out
of
him
.
