The cab crossed Brompton Road into a street on the other side, and after one or two turnings drew up in front of a small house which formed one of a terrace of old-fashioned villas. The woman paid the cab, opened the door with a latch-key, ushered the man into a room of fair size, comfortably furnished, a bright fire made it seem a veritable haven of refuge after the inclemency of the weather without. For the first time she spoke.
"Come to the fire and warm yourself; I should think you must be cold."
He echoed her last word with a very different accent.
"Cold!" He said it again in a tone of voice which was indescribable; in the word as he uttered it there was a whole dictionary of meaning. "Cold!"
She was moving towards the sideboard on which there were bottles and glasses.
"The last time I saw you I had a drink at your expense, though I'm always paying for it."
"The world doesn't seem to have been using you very well since I met you last."
"Women of my sort have to; experience gives it to them. Without courage where should we be?"
"I wonder where you are sometimes even with it. Do you know that you've scarcely ever been out of my thoughts more than an hour or two at a time since we parted?"
"You think so. I've told myself over and over again that when I did get within reach of you--that's just the trouble, I've never quite been able to make up my mind what I'd do to you. I've told myself I'd kill you; in some of my happiest moments, in imagination, I've been wringing your neck; it was a delicious sensation."
"Very well, then, give yourself that delicious sensation in real earnest--wring it. Here I am, quite close, ready to make things easy; I promise that I'll do nothing to keep you from wringing it to your heart's content." She had gone right up to him. He drew himself up straight, with a look upon his face as if he were about to take her at her word; but he stood still. Observing his indecision, she laughed. "How long do you propose to keep me waiting? Are you going to wring it now, or--it might be rather a nuisance in such a matter to have one's moment chosen for one--would you rather wait?"
"Good; then while you're waiting won't you come closer to the fire and have a drink? That's whisky and soda."