An Unexpected Dismissal

The shades had been drawn closely to exclude the sun, and, for a moment after he first crossed the threshold of the library, West was unable to distinguish any occupant. He heard Sexton silently close the door behind him, but it was not until she moved slightly that he was able to perceive her presence directly across from where he stood. Her voice broke the silence.

"You will find a seat next to the window, Captain," she said quietly. "It was very good of you to come."

"The pleasure was mine," he replied. "Only I am blinded coming in here from the bright sunshine without."

"I have had a touch of headache--nervous, no doubt, from the visit this morning--and so ordered Sexton to draw the shades. Your eyes will soon accustom themselves to the lack of light. I see you quite well."

"Oh, I am all right now," and he sank into the vacant chair, facing her, expectantly. "You wished to speak with me, the servant said."

"Yes," she leaned back against the couch on which she rested, with face now clearly revealed, one hand nervously twirling a fan. "Although it is not easy for me to transform into words exactly what I mean. This is a very strange situation in which we find ourselves, Captain West."

"I have felt so," he admitted, surprised at this beginning. "Yet I must confess, I am now becoming quite reconciled."

She sat up suddenly, with eyes searching his face.