“You did,” he said, smiling; “but you wanted to sort of help me. And you've done it, by gee! just by saying that thing about T. Tembarom. You set me right on my feet. That's YOU.”
Before they went away they paid a visit to Strangeways in his remote, undisturbed, and beautiful rooms. They were in a wing of the house untouched by any ordinary passing to and fro, and the deep windows looked out upon gardens which spring and summer would crowd with loveliness from which clouds of perfume would float up to him on days when the sun warmed and the soft airs stirred the flowers, shaking the fragrance from their full incense-cups. But the white fog shut out to-day even their winter bareness. There were light and warmth inside, and every added charm of rich harmony of deep color and comfort made beautiful. There were books and papers waiting to be looked over, but they lay untouched on the writing-table, and Strangeways was sitting close to the biggest window, staring into the fog. His eyes looked hungry and hollow and dark. Ann knew he was “trying to remember” something.
When the sound of footsteps reached his ear, he turned to look at them, and rose mechanically at sight of Ann. But his expression was that of a man aroused from a dream of far-off places.
“I remember you,” he said, but hesitated as though making an effort to recall something.
“Of course you do,” said Little Ann. “You know me quite well. I brought you here. Think a bit. Little--Little--”
“Yes,” he broke forth. “Of course, Little Ann! Thank God I've not forgotten.” He took her hand in both his and held it tenderly. “You have a sweet little face. It's such a wise little face!” His voice sounded dreamy.
Ann drew him to his chair with a coaxing laugh and sat down by him.
“You're flattering me. You make me feel quite shy,” she said. “You know HIM, too,” nodding toward Tembarom.
“Oh, yes,” he replied, and he looked up with a smile. “He is the one who remembers. You said you did.” He had turned to Tembarom.
“You bet your life I do,” Tembarom answered. “And you will, too, before long.”
“If I did not try so hard,” said Strangeways, thoughtfully. “It seems as if I were shut up in a room, and so many things were knocking at the doors--hundreds of them--knocking because they want to be let in. I am damnably unhappy--damnably.” He hung his head and stared at the floor. Tembarom put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a friendly shake.