He came forward, fair and supernaturally neat, as ever, and much more self-possessed than in former days.

It was not their first meeting since she had landed, for he had been to see her late in the afternoon on the day of her arrival, and she had expected him; but she had felt a sort of constraint in his manner then, which was new to her, and they had talked for half an hour about indifferent things.

Moreover, he had refused a second cup of tea, which was a sure sign that something was wrong.

So she had asked him to come again a week later, naming the day, and she had been secretly disappointed because he did not protest against being put off so long.

She wondered what had happened, for his letters, his cable to her when she had left America, and the flowers he had managed to send on board the steamer, had made her believe that he had not changed since they had parted before Christmas.
As she was near the piano she sat down on the stool, while he took a small chair and established himself near the corner of the instrument, at the upper end of the keyboard.