Drake could no longer see more than the shape of her head and the soft waves of hair crowning it; he could not distinguish a single feature, but none the less, as she stood facing him, he felt of a sudden his heart sink within him and his whole strength race out of his body.
Clarice stood still; and he became possessed with a queer longing that she would move again, forwards, within the focus of the firelight.
However, she spoke from where she stood.
'You have seen my father.' Instinctively Drake walked to the fireplace, but she did not follow.
'I have just left him,' he replied.

'He told me what the question was which you wished me to answer.' 'And forbade you to answer it, I suppose ?' 'No.

He left the choice to me.' 'Well ?' she asked.
'I mean to answer it to the full,' he said.

'I was not aware till a moment ago that you had been engaged to Gorley.' Then he hesitated.
Clarice was still standing in the shadow, and his desire that she should move out of it and within the circle of light grew upon him until it seemed almost as though the sight of her face and the knowledge of how she was receiving the history of the incident were necessary conditions of its narration.
'I suppose that is the reason,' he went on, 'which made you ask me here at first.

Why did you never put the question before ?' 'Why ?' repeated Clarice slowly, as if she was putting the question to herself.