Her lips were almost white; her hands trembled out towards him.
"I've come--I've come!" she said.

It had the finality of the last chapter of a book.
The Young Doctor closed the door, ignoring for the instant the hands held out to him.

After all, he was a very sane Young Doctor, and he had the faculty of keeping his head, and his heart, and his own counsel.
Also he knew there was an inquisitive old servant in the hallway.
When the door was closed, he turned round on Louise slowly, and then he held out his hands to her, for she was shrinking away, as though he had repulsed her.

He pressed her trembling hands in the way that only faithful friendship shows, and said: "Yes, I know you've come, but tell me what you've come for." "I couldn't bear it any longer," she said brokenly.

"I'm not made of steel or stone.