It was a good six miles from the one
house to the other, but he arrived before the appointed time, and
had to stray about until the cessation of bell-clanging and the
striking of clocks told him it was eleven. Then he presented
himself at the familiar door.
On his asking for Mrs Reardon, he was at once admitted and led up
to the drawing-room; the servant did not ask his name.
Then he waited for a minute or two, feeling himself a squalid
wretch amid the dainty furniture. The door opened. Amy, in a
simple but very becoming dress, approached to within a yard of
him; after the first glance she had averted her eyes, and she did
not offer to shake hands. He saw that his muddy and shapeless
boots drew her attention.
'Do you know why I have come?' he asked.
He meant the tone to be conciliatory, but he could not command
his voice, and it sounded rough, hostile.
'I think so,' Amy answered, seating herself gracefully. She would
have spoken with less dignity but for that accent of his.
'The Carters have told you?'
'Yes; I have heard about it.'
There was no promise in her manner.
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