Grahame stood upon the threshold.

He looked beyond Lucille to Brott.
"You must really forgive me," he said, "but there is barely time to catch the train, Brott.

I have a hansom waiting, and your luggage is on." Brott answered nothing.

Lucille held out her hands to him.
"Yes or no ?" he asked her in a low hoarse tone.
"You must--give me time! I don't want to lose you.

I--" He caught up his coat.
"Coming, Grahame," he said firmly.