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It seemed a different country from that same morning, and it was hard to believe it was mere hours since I had boarded the train in such an anxious state. With Raffles by my side, and with all our recent troubles behind us, I felt it as if all of Richmond was smiling for us; and when the sight of our new home caused Raffles’s face to light up with a joy I had not seen for years, it was as if something settled at last. The landlady met us in the door, and a cheerful wave of introductions and small talk followed, before I could finally bring Raffles up to the room I had deliberately saved for him. It was the airier room, on the south side, with the generous amount of sunshine during the day which I knew he would appreciate. The furniture was all to his liking, too; a small iron fireplace decorated the west wall; there even was a robust book-case not unlike the ones he had had at the Albany in the old days. Raffles took it all in with a smile.“What more can one ask for!” said he jovially, but I barely heard him.In three strides I was across the room, and fell upon his neck. The dam had broken at last: every anxiety, every horrible sensation of grief and loss and despair seemed to be pouring out of me at once; and it was with tears streaming down my face that I grasped at his shirt, and kissed him with a fervour extravagant even to me. If he was surprised, he did not show it; and when we broke apart, he held me close still, calming me with the gentle caress of his hands.“Bunny,” he only said. “Bunny, my Bunny.”Still shaken, I placed a hand on his beating heart.“You are alright, are you not?” said I hoarsely. “Those drugs did not have a lasting effect?”He shook his head, placing his hand on mine.“No, Bunny—a bit of rest, and I shall be as good as new in no time.”His eyes looked into mine, and a shimmer came over them.“Will you stay here tonight?” said he then, in a voice which had lost its characteristic steadiness. “Bunny, will you stay in here with me tonight?”He need not have asked.