He passed the box of cigarettes to her and held it while she made up her mind whether she would smoke an Egyptian or a Turkish. Her delicate fingers moved indecisively from the one brand to the other. "You like Turkish, don't you?" he said, wishing that he could take her slender hand in his and hold it forever. "Choose one for me," she said, capriciously, lying back and clasping her hands about her head. He took a cigarette from the box and offered it to her, but she did not hold out her hand to take it, and he understood that he was to place it between her lips. His fingers trembled as he did so, and he turned hurriedly to find the matches. "Behind you," she said, and he turned and picked them up. He lit a match and held it to her cigarette, and while he held it, her fingers touched his. She had taken hold of the cigarette to remove it from her lips.... He blew out the light and threw the match into the ash-tray, and then went and sat down in the deep chair in which he had been sitting when she asked him to get the cushion for her. "Why didn't you call before?" she said, lazily blowing the smoke up into the air. It was difficult to say why he had not called before, so he answered vaguely. There had been so much to do of late.... "And Gilbert? He doesn't rehearse all day long, does he?" "No, not all day, but he's pretty tired by the time he gets home." "Why didn't he come to the Savoy that night?" she asked. He wished she would not talk about Gilbert. He could not tell her the real reason why Gilbert had not kept his promise to join the supper-party and he was a poor hand at inventing convincing lies. "There was some trouble at his office, I think," he said, "and he couldn't get away until too late!..." "He didn't write or come to see me!" she protested. It was probable that Gilbert forgot his duty in the excitement of hearing that his play was to be produced.... "I suppose so," she said. She talked to him about his books and about Ireland. She had been to Dublin once and had gone to the Viceregal Lodge ... Lady Dundrum had taken her to some function there ... and she was eager for the tittle-tattle of the Court. Was it true that Lord Kelpie was indifferent to his lady?... Henry knew very little of the Dublin gossip. "I haven't been there since I left Trinity," he said, in explanation, "and the only people who write to me don't take any interest in Court functions!" He rose to go, but she asked him to stay to tea with her, and so he remained. "I don't suppose any one will call," she said, "but in case ..."