Then she sat down, her hands tightly clasped about her knees, and waited.
Field's quiet voice broke the stillness at length.

"If you are writing letters of your own, perhaps I may leave this one in your charge." She looked round with a start.

He had turned in his chair.

Their eyes met across the room.
"May I ?" he said.
She nodded, finding her voice with an effort.

"Yes--of course." He got up, and as he did so the great dinner-gong sounded through the house.