They went through and were met by a white circular staircase. Up this they passed, paused before another door, and crossed the threshold into a high circular brilliantly-lit room. For the moment Harkness, his eyes dimmed a little by the shadows of the staircase, could see nothing but the gayness, brightness of the place papered with a wonderful Chinese pattern of green and purple birds, cherry-coloured pagodas and crimson temples. The carpet was a soft heavy purple, and there was a number of little gilt chairs, and, in front of the narrow barred window, a gilt cage with a green and crimson macaw.
All this, standing by the door shading his eyes from the dazzling crystal candelabra, he took in. Then suddenly saw something that swept away the rest—Hesther and Dunbar standing together, hand in hand, by the window. He gave a cry of joy, hurrying towards them. It was as though he had not seen them for years; they caught his hand in theirs; Crispin was there watching them like a benevolent father with his beloved children.
"That's right," he said. "Make the most of your time together. I want you to have a last talk."
He sat down on one of the gilt chairs.
"Won't you sit down In a moment I shall leave you alone together for a little while. In case you have any last words...." Then he leaned forward in that fashion so familiar now to
