Alpha Book

Finally he got up and filled his pipe, intending to try the
chair once more under the most favourable circumstances.
As he lighted his pipe there came a hesitating knock at the door; he
jerked his head sharply; the knock was repeated.
Something--a faintest premonition--the vaguest stirring of foreboding
committed him to silence--and left him there motionless. The match
burned close to his fingers; he dropped it and set his heel upon the
sparks.
Then he walked swiftly to the door, flung it open full width--and stood
stock still.
And Mrs. Ruthven entered the room, partly closing the door behind, her
gloved hand still resting on the knob.
For a moment they confronted one another, he tall, rigid, astounded; she
pale, supple, relaxing a trifle against the half-closed door behind her,
which yielded and closed with a low click.
At the sound of the closing door he found his voice; it did not resemble
his own voice either to himself or to her; but she answered his
bewildered question:
"I don't know why I came.


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