A great door swung open,
somebody grasped his hand, there was a murmur of voices, and partly
dazed by the change of temperature he blundered into the warmth of the
hall. The blaze of light bewildered him, and he was but dimly sensible
that the men who greeted him were helping him to shake off his furs,
while the next thing he was sure of was that a little white-haired lady
was holding out her hand.
"We are very glad to see you back," she said, with a simplicity that
yet suggested stateliness. "Your friends insisted on coming over to
welcome you, and Dane will not let you keep them waiting too long.
Dinner is almost ready."
Winston could not remember what he answered, but Miss Barrington smiled
at him as she moved away, for the flush in his face was very eloquent.
The man was very grateful for that greeting, and what it implied. It
was a few minutes later when he found himself alone with Dane, who
laughed softly as he nodded to him.
"You are convinced at last?" he said. "Still, there is a little more
of the same thing to be faced, and, if it would relieve you, I will
send for Alfreton, who has some taste in that direction, to fix that
tie for you. You have been five minutes over it, and it evidently does
not please you. It's the first time I've ever seen you worry about
your dress."
Winston turned, and a curious smile crept into his face as he laid a
lean hand that shook a little on the toilet table.
"I also think it's the first time these fingers wouldn't do what I
wanted them.
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