He'd been morose and silent on the trip home, and once they returned to the studio he collapsed in a chair, ordering her to leave as if he couldn't stand the sight of her. She had not gone. She'd waited the few minutes until his eyes closed and she heard his steady breathing, and then she carefully went out, hurrying across the hall to Childs's studio. There was no answer when she rapped on the door. Feeling numb and bewildered, not knowing what else to do, she settled herself on the floor to wait for him. It seemed like hours before she heard his step on the landing. Imogene caught her breath, not relaxing until she saw the top of his golden head through the railing. He caught sight of her almost instantly; she saw him stiffen in surprise, saw his sudden worry. "Miss Imogene?" She rose, smoothing her skirts. "Do you think I might have a word with you?" she asked softly. He frowned and glanced at the door to Jonas's studio. "He's sleeping." "Sleeping?" "Yes." He seemed to relax slightly.
