"You! He's not coming to see you. I don't believe he's coming to see anyone—no, not even Maggie—I mean no one, at all."
The girl's look marked the fatal slip.
"Oh!" she gasped, just audibly.
"I don't believe he cares that for any of us—for anyone alive. Marjory, I didn't mean what I said about Maggie, I didn't indeed. Don't look like that. Oh, what a stupid girl you are!" and she ended with a half-hysterical laugh.
For some moments they stood facing one another, saying nothing. The meaning of Adela's words was sinking into Marjory's mind.
"Let's walk on. People will wonder," said she at last; and she enlaced Adela's arm again. After another long pause, during which her face expressed the turmoil of her thoughts, she whispered,
"Adela, is that why Mr. Loring went away?"
"I don't know why he went away."
"You think me a child, so you say you don't mean it now. You do mean it, you know. You wouldn't say a thing like that for nothing. Tell me what you do mean, Adela." It was almost an order. Adela suddenly realised that she had struck down to a force and a character. "Tell me exactly what you mean," insisted Marjory; "you ought to tell me, Adela."
Adela found herself obeying.