She made room for him on the couch beside her, and when he had taken his seat, she turned at once to speak.
But Shere Ali raised his hand in a gesture of entreaty.
"Hush!" he said with a smile; and the smile pleaded with her as much as did his words.

"Just for a moment! We can argue afterwards.

Just for a moment, let us pretend." Violet Oliver had expected anger, accusations, prayers.

Even for some threat, some act of violence, she had come prepared.

But the quiet wistfulness of his manner, as of a man too tired greatly to long for anything, took her at a disadvantage.