But there was something else; and in his befogged mental state the comparison eluded him. “Please forgive me coming up, Miss Pellissier, but you have not been down to dinner for three nights, and—Brendon and I—we were afraid that you might be unwell. ” He said to her with as much casualness as he could muster. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears.
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