He slipped past her into the room and surveyed it ruefully. If he had meant to devise a way to give evidence of his presence there he might have chosen just some such method as this—to restore with invisible hands the familiar, lived-in look of the room as they were both accustomed to it. But at the same time, it was a risk he would hardly have dared to take voluntarily, at least not yet, for fear of upsetting the delicate balance of their strange companionship, or of driving her away altogether. He did not like to think that she might be afraid of him. He had even contemplated some sort of revelation some day, if ever he felt secure enough. But this was too soon.

“Please don’t be frightened,” he entreated her from the middle of the room. “I shouldn’t have moved the things. I wasn’t thinking. But please don’t let it put you off! Please, Sabrina—don’t go away—”

She came in very slowly and shut the door and stood against it. Her eyes were unusually wide and blue, and she was breathing fast as though she had run up the stairs. But she didn’t look at all afraid.

“Hilary—” she whispered, holding tight to Muffin and the roses. “Where are you? I can’t see you—I can’t hear you—but I know you’re here in this room. I’ve felt it before and—and now I know. And I’m glad. But how do I find you?”

“You can’t,” he said, standing still by the mantelpiece, watching her. “Not yet.”

“Hilary—” (From where he stood half way across the room he could see the tiny pulse which beat in her thin throat.) “Hilary—who are you?”

“I am the man you would have married, if things hadn’t gone wrong,” he told her simply, knowing it now himself with dizzying certainty.

But her eyes went past him and her next words took no notice of his.

“Can’t you talk to me?” she begged, and it seemed the most reasonable request, with only the sentient air of that quiet room between them..

“Evidently not yet,” he said, and wondered why, when they were already so close.

“Hilary, I’m afraid!”

“Not of me.”

“I’m afraid of living—if you’re dead. They’ll always try to separate us.”

“They can’t do that. Nothing can.”

“Oh, why didn’t you come home as I planned it! I’d have felt so safe with you, whatever happened!”

“I meant to come. Something slipped—a matter of weeks—the timing went wrong.”

“What did you say, Hilary—say it again—I nearly heard—”

“Don’t try, my darling. I’ll wait.”

“Wait for me, Hilary! Don’t ever go away!”

“I’ll be here—always,” he promised.