Her eyes were softer than usual, the faintest trace of colour showed in her cheek, while the light evening dress emphasized the fine sweep of curve and line that was further accentuated by her pose.

The lamp that hung above her smote a track of brightness athwart her red-gold hair, until she slightly moved her head so that while part of the full round neck showed in its snowy whiteness her face was in the shadow.
"I think you will be successful.

I hope you will," she said.
It was evident that the man understood all that was meant, but he rose with an apparent effort.

"And now I have a good deal to do," he said.
Alice Deringham also rose with a little stateliness, and when he had gone out sank down contemplatively into the chair again.

Her hands lay open in her lap, and it is possible that she saw nothing of the sewing they rested on as she grappled with the question why had the man told her what he had done.