She was glad that her husband was awake. The thin line of light still showed beneath his door. It would be dreadful to be alone--in the dark. At last she could stand it no longer. She got out of bed, wrapped herself in a robe that lay at the foot of it, and opened the door.
As her husband turned in his chair, she saw his hand go quickly, as if to cover the paper on which he was writing. "Of course, my dear. Are you afraid?"
She put her hands up to her face and began to cry. He came swiftly toward her and took her in his arms. "Hush," he said, "nothing can hurt you, Anne."
When she waked in the morning, it was with, the remembrance of his tenderness. Well, of course he was sorry for her. Anybody would be. But Christopher was sorry, too. And Christopher had something to offer her--more than Ridgeley--yes, it was more--
She was half afraid to go down-stairs. Christopher would be at breakfast on the porch. Jeanette would be there, pouring coffee, and perhaps Ridgeley if he had no calls. And Christopher would talk in his gay young voice--and Ridgeley would read the newspaper, and she and Christopher would make their plans for the day--
She rose and began to dress, but found herself suddenly panic-stricken at the thought of the plans that Christopher might make. If they motored off together, he would talk to her as he had talked in the grove of birches--of the temple bells, and of the desert, and the strange harbors--and how could she be sure that she would be strong enough to resist--and what if she listened, and let him have his way?
She decided to eat her breakfast in bed, and rang for it. A note came up from Christopher. "Don't stay up-stairs. Ridgeley left hours ago, and I shan't enjoy my toast and bacon if you aren't opposite me. I have picked a white rose to put by your plate. And I have a thousand things to say to you--"
His words had a tonic effect. Oh, why not--? What earthly difference would it make? And hadn't Browning said something like that--"_Who knows but the world may end to-night_?"
She was not sure that was quite the way that Browning had put it, and she thought she would like to be sure--she could almost see herself saying it to Christopher.
So she went into her husband's room to get the book.