But a kind of ague-terror crept over me while I sat waiting in an ugly little bare, stuffy reception room.

My head was going round and round, my heart was pounding so that I could not make up my mind what to say to Ivor when he came.
Then, suddenly, I heard the sound of footsteps outside the door; and when it opened, there stood Ivor, between two Frenchmen in blue uniforms.

One of them walked into the room with him--I suppose he must have been a warder--but he stopped near the door, and in a second I had forgotten all about him.

He simply ceased to exist for me, when my eyes and Ivor's had met.
I sprang up from my chair and began to talk as quickly as I could, stammering and confused, hardly knowing what I said, but anxious to make him understand in the beginning that I had not come to take back my words of yesterday.
"We're all so dreadfully sorry, Mr.Dundas," I said.

"I don't know if Uncle Eric has been here yet--but he is doing all he can, and Aunt Lilian is dreadfully upset.