She was straining her ears for the sound of his voice--that voice that had once spoken to her quivering soul, pleading with her that she would at their next meeting treat him--without prejudice.

The memory thrilled through her.
This was the man for whose coming she had waited so long! He had straightened himself again, and was coming round the table to follow up his stroke.

Fletcher Hill spoke at her shoulder.
"Sit down!" he said.

"There is room here." There was a small space on the corner of the raised settee that ran along the side of the room.

Dot and Adela sat down together.