This, he explained, would procure me the interview I
wanted, but unfortunately, I must not hope to see my friend alone. A
warder who understood English would have to be present.
So far I had gone into the wild venture without once thinking what it
would be to find myself suddenly face to face with Ivor in such terrible
circumstances, or what he would think of me for coming in such a way now
that we were no longer anything to each other--not even friends. But a
kind of ague-terror crept over me while I sat waiting in an ugly little
bare, stuffy reception room. My head was going round and round, my heart
was pounding so that I could not make up my mind what to say to Ivor
when he came.
Then, suddenly, I heard the sound of footsteps outside the door; and
when it opened, there stood Ivor, between two Frenchmen in blue
uniforms. One of them walked into the room with him--I suppose he must
have been a warder--but he stopped near the door, and in a second I had
forgotten all about him. He simply ceased to exist for me, when my eyes
and Ivor's had met.
I sprang up from my chair and began to talk as quickly as I could,
stammering and confused, hardly knowing what I said, but anxious to make
him understand in the beginning that I had not come to take back my
words of yesterday.
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