"It is rather I who should ask the question. Are you glad to see me?"
There was a dryness in her tone which grated on Hubert's ears.
"This is a case in which diplomacy is required. I wonder what there's been between them." Aloud he remarked, "Can you not forget and forgive?"
"Cecil, do you mean it?" She glanced behind her as if in sudden agitation. "I cannot stop now. Meet me in the garden after dinner."
She was gone before he even had a ghost of a chance of feeling his way.
Hubert, who had been leaning against the wall, came out into the moonlight. The lady stood on the top of the steps. The moon shone full upon her. It lit up the glory of her red-gold hair. She was clad in full evening dress. Her little opera cloak, which had slipped off her shoulders, revealed, rather than concealed, her magnificent proportions. Hubert, eying her critically from below, told himself that she was certainly a "oner!"
"I am afraid I am late. I hope you haven't been waiting long."
"Nothing to speak of. Just time enough to enjoy a cigar--and to dream of you."
"Cecil! For shame! Is it damp? I have only my thin shoes on."
She held one out in evidence. Hubert liked the look of it.
"It is as dry as tinder; just the night for lovers."
"I really think it is." She came down the steps. "How glorious!" Laying her hand upon his arm, she looked into his eyes with her big ones. "As you say, it is just the night for lovers."
"It seems strange, after all that has passed between us, that you and I should be walking here together."
"It does seem strange." It certainly did.
"After all the hard things you have thought and said of me." There was a pause. She looked down, speaking softly. "Call me by my pet name."
He slightly started. But he was not the sort of man to remain long at a loss. As he turned to her and answered, in his voice there was a ring of passionate intensity.
"Angel! My angel of love! My angel of all good things!"
Their lips met in a kiss. As they did so, he told himself that if she was Cecil's idea of an angel, she wasn't his. But she was certainly a "oner." He wondered if she had been christened "Angel" Danvers. What a weapon with which to chastise a wife!
"Cecil, let us understand each other. You are not trifling with me again?"