.
And now he must see Margaret Craven, see her for herself, but also see her to talk to her about her brother.

How much did Rupert Craven know?
How much--and here was the one tremendous question--had he told his sister?
As Olva waited, once again, in the musty hall, saw once more the dim red glass of the distant window, smelt again the scent of oranges, his heart was beating so that he could not hear the old woman's trembling voice.

How would Margaret receive him?
Would there be in her eyes that shadow of distrust that he always saw now in Rupert's?
His knees were trembling and he had to stay for an instant and pull himself together before he crossed the drawing-room threshold.
And then he was, instantly, reassured.

Margaret was alone in the dim room, and as she came to meet him he saw in her approach to him that she had been wanting him.

In her extended hands he found a welcome that implied also a need.