Again there was silence between them, and it was Angela who broke it with, “Why did you come here, Geoffrey?”
“Because Maurice came; I was glad of the chance of being with him in a quiet place where one can rest.”
“And why did Maurice come?”
Geoffrey responded promptly. “To see you—in a quiet place where he can see you.”
She let the assertion pass, forestalling a possible retort with—
“And I came for you and for Maurice and for Mrs. Merrick. I am fond of Mrs. Merrick.”
“Of ugly Mrs. Merrick? Really?”
“Really indeed. My likings are not founded on alluring faces or sophisticated gowns. I saw a good deal of her in London. She is interested in many of my objects. She is trying to grow.”
“And you are down here to help her. I hope that your efforts will bring something out. I confess that to me the plant looks dry and thorny.”
“Ah! that is because she is in such an arid soil. I can help her. She made me feel that, and I never refuse help.”