It was her room, where she slept--and he had come at a strange hour.

She understood the movement, his desire to take her in his arms, and his big, clean thoughts of her as he drew a step back.
It sent a flush of pleasure and still deeper trust into her cheeks.
"You have something to tell me ?" she asked.
"Yes--about your mother." Her hand had touched his arm, and he felt her start.

Briefly he told what had happened.

Josephine's face was so white that it startled him when he had finished.
"She said--she was going to the baby!" she breathed, as if whispering the words to herself.

"And she was in her bare feet, with her hair down, and her gown open to the snow and wind! Oh my God!" "Perhaps she was in her sleep," hurried Philip.