“Yes. Because you were strong enough. You were right, because you were strong enough. I believe in law, too, you see—unless one is strong enough to break it for something better. You were. It was a beautiful thing to do.”
“But then, if you think me so strong, why not trust me now? This, now, is the thing I want to do.”
“Because of me. It isn’t against the law you are acting now; it’s against your own life. I am not angry. But it crushes me.”
They stood there then, she deeply meditating, he fixed in his unyielding grief, for how long she could not have said. Parton’s step outside broke in upon their mute opposition.
VI
SHE and Mr. Darley, Mrs. Delafield was aware, presented precisely the abstracted, alienated air that Parton would expect. The young man moved away to the window while she took from the salver the note Parton presented. Then, her hand arrested in the very act by a recognition,
“Is there an answer?” she asked.
“No answer, ma’am.”
“Who brought it?”
“A man from the station, ma’am.”