He
stepped into the gale and shouted: "Roger! Roger! Come in!"

Roger waved his arms, which were too long for the sleeves of his coat,
and from his mouthings it was evident that he was shouting back, but the
wind took it all. In anger Richard stepped back into the room and made
as if to close the doors, and at that the two on the lawn ran towards
the house, with that look which common people have when they run for a
train, as if their feet were buckling up under them. Richard held the
door wide again, but when the couple reached the path in front of the
house they were once more seized with a doubt about entering and came to
a standstill.

"Come in," said Richard; "come in."

The man took off his cap and ran his hands through his pale, long hair.
"Is mother in?" he demanded in a thin, whistling voice.

"Come in," said Richard; "come in."

The man began: "Well, if mother's not in, I don't know--"

Richard fixed his eyes on the woman's face. "Come in," he said softly,
brutally, loathingly. Ellen shivered to hear him speak thus to a woman
and to see a woman take it thus, for at once the stranger moved forward
to the window and stepped into the room. As she brushed by him she
cringingly bowed her shoulders a little, and looked up at him as he
stood a head and shoulders higher than herself. He looked back steadily
and made no sign of seeing her save by a slight compression of the lips,
until she passed on with dragging feet and stood listlessly in the
middle of the room. It was evident that they completely understood one
another, and yet their understanding sprung from no recollection of any
previous encounter, for into the eyes of neither did there come any
flash of recognition. There could be no doubt that Richard was feeling
nothing but contempt for this woman, and her peaked yet rich-coloured
face expressed only sick sullenness; yet Ellen felt a rage like
jealousy.

Richard turned again to the garden, and said: "Come in."

"Now don't be high-handed, old man," expostulated the stranger. But then
he seemed to remember something, and stretched out both his arms, held
them rigid, and opened his mouth wide as if to speak very loudly. But no
sound came, and his arms dropped, and his long bony hands pawed the air.
Then suddenly his arms shot out again, and he exclaimed very quickly in
a high, strained voice: "Pride has always been your besetting sin,
Richard. You aren't a bad chap in any way that I know of. But you're