The little dinner which she had planned was as near perfection as possible.

The champagne bubbled in their glasses.

The soft light, the solitude, the stillness,--nothing had failed her, except the man.

Stephen sat within a few feet of her, with furrowed brow and mind absorbed by a possible political problem.
Nora made coffee at the table, but they drank it seated in great easy chairs drawn up to the fire.

She passed him silently a box of his favourite brand of cigarettes.