And she, as if compelled, moved towards him, till at last she reached and stood before him, white, mute, passive as a prisoner in iron fetters.
It was the man who spoke, with an odd jerkiness of tone and demeanour that might have indicated embarrassment or even possibly some deeper emotion.

"So you've come along at last!" he said.
She nodded.

For an instant her dark eyes were raised, but they flashed downwards again immediately, almost before they had met his own.
Abruptly he thrust out to her the flowers he held.

"I was getting these for you." She took them in a trembling hand.

She bent her face over them to hide the piteous quivering of her lips.