Sidney could converse no longer. He felt the need of being alone, to put his thoughts in order, to resume his experiences during this strange hour. An extreme weariness was possessing him, as though he had been straining his intellect in attention to some difficult subject. And all at once the dank, cold atmosphere of the room struck into his blood; he had a fit of trembling. ‘Let us say good-bye for the present.’ Clara gave her hand silently. He touched it for the first time, and could not but notice its delicacy; it was very warm, too, and moist. Without speaking she went with him to the outer door. His footsteps sounded along the stone staircase; Clara listened until the last echo was silent. She too had begun to feel the chilly air. Hastily putting on her hat, she took up the lamp, glanced round the room to see that nothing was left in disorder, and hastened up to the fifth storey. In the middle room, through which she had to pass, her father and Mr. Eagles were talking together. The latter gave her a ‘good-evening,’ respectful, almost as to a social superior. Within, Amy and Annie were just going to bed. She sat with them in her usual silence for a quarter of an hour, then, having ascertained that Eagles was gone into his own chamber, went out to speak to her father. ‘My friend came,’ she said. ‘Do you suspect who it was?’ ‘Why, no, I can’t guess, Clara.’ ‘Haven’t you thought of Mr. Kirkwood?’ ‘You don’t mean that?’ ‘Father, you are quite mistaken about Jane Snowdon—quite.’ John started up from his seat. ‘Has he told you so, himself?’ ‘Yes. But listen; you are not to say a word on that subject to him. You will be very careful, father?’ John gazed at her wonderingly. She kissed his forehead, and withdrew to the other room. CHAPTER XXXII A HAVEN