Perhaps Richard was only angry with me, and _that_ might bring me a release.
At nine o'clock I heard a ring at the bell, and then his step in the hall.

He was slower than usual in coming in; everything made me feel confused and apprehensive.

When he opened the door and entered, I was trying to command myself, but I forgot all about myself when I saw _him_.

His face was white, and he looked haggard and harassed, as if he had gone through a year of suffering since last night, when I left him with the lamp and cigar in the library.
I started up and put out my hand.

"What is it, Richard?
You are in some trouble." He said no, and tried to speak in an ordinary tone, sitting down on the sofa by my chair.
I was confused and thrown back by this, and tried to talk as if nothing had been said.
"Will you have a cup of tea ?" I asked; "Ann has just taken it away." He said absently, yes, and I rang for Ann to bring the tea, and then went to the table to pour it out.
He sat with his face leaning on his hand on the arm of the sofa, and did not seem to notice me till I carried the cup to him, and offered it.
Then he started, and looked up and took it, asking my pardon, and thanking me.
"Are you not going to have one yourself ?" he said, half rising.
"No, I don't want any to-night.