His face, pale and chastened by his recent attack, went to her heart. There was in it something so boyish, so irresponsible. That mother-pity welled in her. What she had determined on was going to hurt more even than she had dreaded. Yet she knew that she would go through with it to the end, no matter how it hurt. The pain of freeing herself from this coil would be as nothing to the pain of remaining stifled and loathing in it.
She drew up a chair and sat down on the other side of the little table.
"I'm so glad to see you so much better!" she said. "Please don't stop. You make me feel that I've spoiled your appetite."
"No. I've finished," he said, pushing the plate from him.
He touched a little bell. Miss Webb appeared.
"Please take these things away," he said.
"Oh!..." she exclaimed, disappointed, as she lifted the tray. "You said you could eat it all, and now you've left a whole drumstick!"
Loring reddened. Fool of a woman! She made him ridiculous with her nursery expressions and concern as for a sick little boy who wouldn't eat enough.
"Take it away!" he repeated sharply. "I'll ring again when I need you."
Miss Webb retreated, her eyes fixed regretfully on the neglected "drumstick." When the door had closed again, he lifted his moody glance with an effort to Sophy's face.