She told the porter to take it to the booking-office, and it was only after a disconcerting moment or so that she found she ought to have directed him to go to the cloak-room. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked. ‘Oh, my God, Melusine, what have I done?’ Melusine shook her head. “Can you come out tonight?” “Um, sure, I guess. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. She rapped again, louder.
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