A silence fell between them.
"You shall come," he said at last. "What do I care for him or the rest of them? I care for nothing but you."
"I will not come, Willie. I dare not come. Willie, in a week—in a day—Willie, my dear, in an hour you will be glad that I would not come."
As she spoke, her voice grew louder. The words sounded like a sentence on him.
"Is that why?" he asked, regarding her with moody eyes.
She hesitated before she answered, in bewildered despair.
"Yes. I don't know. In part it is. And I daren't think of Harry. Let me think, Willie, that it's a little bit because of Harry and the children. I know I can't expect you to believe it, but it is a little, though it's more because of you."
"Of me?—for my sake, do you mean?"
"No; not altogether for your sake; because of you."
"And, Maggie, if he suspects?"