A few hours had elapsed since my acquittal, and after a brush up and a
hasty meal I had entered Vera's sitting-room.
It was already dark. The tiny electric lamps flooded with amber light
the small apartment rendered cosy by the drawn curtains. On a lounge
chair she sat, wrapped in a pale grey cashmere gown, with a bunch of
crimson roses in her breast. At sight of me she rose. Not a muscle of
her countenance stirred, I and could divine her embarrassment by the
sharp glance she momentarily darted at me.