Before, she had managed to avoid a direct meeting by those many and engaging little makeshifts girls have, of glancing at a man's shoulder, his ear, his mouth--and off at the floor, the window--anywhere not to let him see clearly what she may be afraid he will see. And Georgiana was intensely afraid that if Dr. Jefferson Craig got one straight look with those keen eyes of his he would recognize that her whole aching, throbbing heart was betraying itself from between those lifted lashes. But now, somehow, with her question she ventured to give him this one look. The interview might end at any moment; she must have one straight survey of his face, bent so near hers. He gave it back, and until her glance dropped he did not speak. Then, very low, but very clearly, he said deliberately: "When may I come?" The room whirled. The lights from the sconces danced together and blurred. The floor lifted and sank away again. And Chester Crofton chose this moment--as if he were not after all really of that highly intelligent class which knows when to pursue its own conversations and when to break into those of others--to call across the room: "Oh, I beg pardon, Doctor Craig, but when did you say Jean might have something real to eat? Rosy says it's to-morrow and I say it's not yet at all." Doctor Craig turned and answered, and turned back again. He was not of the composition of those who are balked of answers to their questions by ill-timed interruptions. But the little diversion gave Georgiana an instant's chance to make herself ready to answer like a woman and not like a startled schoolgirl. So that when he repeated, his voice again dropped: "When, Georgiana?" She was able to reply as quietly as she could have wished: "Do you want to come, Doctor Craig?" "I want to come. I have never wanted anything so much." "Then--please do." "Very soon? As soon as I can get away for a few hours? Perhaps next week? It is always difficult, but if I plan ahead sometimes I can manage to make almost the train I hope for." She nodded. "Any train--anytime." There was an instant's silence. It seemed to her that she could hear one or two deep-drawn breaths from him. Then: "Would you mind looking up just once more? I must go in a minute; I can't even take you to your train." But she answered, with an odd little trembling of the lips: "Please don't ask me to. I'm--afraid!" A low laugh replied to that. "So am I!" said Jefferson Craig. He rose, and she rose with him. The others came around and he took leave of them. His handclasp was all that Georgiana had for farewell, for when she lifted her eyes she let them rest on his finely moulded chin. But she knew that in spite of his expressed fear it was not her round little chin he looked at, but the gleam of her dark eyes through their sheltering lashes, and that his hand gave hers a pressure which carried with it much meaning. It told her that which as yet she hardly dared believe.