After all, there would be plenty of time afterwards to melt her dislike, so he could afford to wait now.

He would not permit himself to suffer again as he had done last night.

Then he came in and had his bath, and made himself into a very perfect-looking lover, to present himself to his lady at about half-past twelve o'clock, to take her to his mother.
Zara was, if anything, whiter than usual when she came into the library where he was waiting for her alone.

The financier had gone to the City.
She had heavy, bluish shadows under her eyes, and he saw quite plainly that, the night before, she must have been weeping bitterly.
A great tenderness came over him.

What was this sorrow of hers?
Why might he not comfort her?
He put out both hands and then, as she remained stonily unresponsive, he dropped them, and only said quietly that he hoped she was well, and his motor was waiting outside, and that his mother, Lady Tancred, would be expecting them.
"I am ready," said Zara.