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She must see, with her first glance at him, that she had nothing
to fear from a repetition of his former behavior. She must see that the
brute in him--that was the way he put it to himself--was completely
tamed.
Their meeting was a shock to both of them; an incredible mocking sort of
anti-climax.
He was standing near the foot of the stairs when she came down, with a
raincoat on, and a newspaper twisted up in his hands, and at sight of
her, he took off his soft wet hat, and crunched it up along with the
newspaper. He moved over toward her, but stopped two or three feet away.
"It's very good of you to come," he said, his voice lacking a little of
the ridiculous stiffness of his words, not much. "Is there some place
where we can talk a little more--privately than here? I shan't keep you
long."
"There's a room here somewhere," she said. "I noticed it this morning
when we came in. Oh, yes! It's over there."
The room she led him to, was an appropriately preposterous setting for
the altogether preposterous talk that ensued between them.


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