"You blow out the candle," she said then. "It makes it kind of hot. Now I'll move over, and you climb up here and lie down a spell. I guess it'll rest you."
Rose put out the candle, and breathed her relief now that even that light was off her tortured face. Then she did stretch herself on the bed, and grannie put out a hand and held hers.
"'T won't hurt your skirt, will it?" she asked. "You've got such pretty clothes. I shouldn't want to have 'em tumbled."
Rose spoke again with her insistent haste,—
"I am an adventuress."
"There! there! don't say that. It's a miserable kind of a word. Did your father come here to take you back?"
"I don't know why he came—not entirely. But he tells me to go with him. I must go."
"Do you want to go, dear?"
She hesitated a moment, and they both listened to the sounds of the summer night.
"I want to be honest," Rose said at last. "It is too late—but I must do the best I can."