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He shot out a hand, which she noticed shook a little, towards the stove. "This, too, will be useful - exceedingly useful, to me," and he touched the edge of the stone sink with a lingering, caressing touch.
He threw his head back and passed his hand over his high, bare forehead; then, moving towards a chair, he sat down - wearily. "I'm tired," he muttered in a low voice, "tired - tired! I've been walking about all day, Mrs. Bunting, and I could find nothing to sit down upon. They do not put benches for tired men in the London streets. They do so on the Continent. In some ways they are far more humane on the Continent than they are in England, Mrs. Bunting."
"Indeed, sir," she said civilly; and then, after a nervous glance, she asked the question of which the answer would mean so much to her, "Then you mean to take my rooms, sir?"
"This room, certainly," he said, looking round. "This room is exactly what I have been