For when he stepped into the recess he turned towards her, and the dim light struck upon him and showed her the contour of his face.

It was her lover, Harry Wethermill.
Why he had come at this hour, and in this strange way, she did not consider.

Now she must attract his eyes, now her fear was lest he should not see her.
But he came at once straight towards her.

He stood in front of her, looking into her eyes.

But he uttered no cry.