Then he passed thoughtfully down-stairs, only to come upon Helen who was just extinguishing the front-hall light.
"Good night!" he said, in passing.
"Good night, Mr.Sweetwater." There was something in her tone which made him stop and look back.

She had stepped into the library and was blowing out the lamp there.

He paused a moment and sighed softly.

Then he started towards the door, only to stop again and cast another look back.

She was standing in one of the doorways, anxiously watching him and twisting her fingers in and out in an irresolute way truly significant in one of her disposition.
He felt his heart leap.
Returning softly, he took up his stand before her, looking her straight in the eye.
"Good night," he repeated, with an odd emphasis.
"Good night," she answered, with equal force and meaning.
But the next moment she was speaking rapidly, earnestly.
"I can't sleep," said she.