sed--I should not have come here! It was such a
foolish impulse."

She caught up her gloves feverishly, but Norgate's moment of stupefaction
had passed. He clasped her hands.

"Forgive me," he begged. "It is really you--Anna!"

His words were almost incoherent, but his tone was convincing. Her fears
passed away.

"You don't wonder that I was a little surprised, do you?" he exclaimed.
"You were not only the last person whom I was thinking of, but you
were certainly the last person whom I expected to see in London or to
welcome here."

"But why?" she asked. "I told you that I came often to this country."

"I remember," Norgate admitted. "Yet I never ventured to hope--"

"Of course I should not have come here," she interrupted. "It was absurd
of me, and at such an hour! And yet I am staying only a few hundred yards
away. The temptation to-night was irresistible. I felt as one sometimes
does in this queer, enormous city--lonely. I telephoned, and your
servant, who answered me, said that you were expected back at any moment.
Then I came myself."

"You cannot imagine that I am not glad to see you," he said earnestly.

"I want to believe that you are glad," she answered. "I have been
restless ever since you left. Tell me at once, what did they say to
you here?"

"I am practically shelved," he told her bitterly. "In twelve months'
time, perhaps, I may be offered something in America or Asia--countries
where diplomacy languishes. In a word, your mighty autocrat has spoken
the word, and I am sacrificed."

She moved towards the window.

"I am stifled!" she exclaimed. "Open it wide, please."

He threw it open. They looked out eastwards. The roar of the night was
passing. Here and there were great black spaces. On the Thames a sky-sign
or two remained. The blue, opalescent glare from the Gaiety dome still
shone. The curving lights which spanned the bridges and fringed the
Embankment still glittered. The air, even here, high up as they were on
the seventh story of the building, seemed heavy and lifeless.

"There is a storm coming," she said. "I have felt it for days."

She stood looking out, pale, her large eyes strained as though seeking to
read something which eluded her in the clouds or the shadows which hung
over the city. She had rather the air of a frightened but eager child.
She rested her fingers upon his arm, not exactly affectionately, but as
though she felt the need of some protection.

"Do you know," s