Tom smiled, but his smile was still a nervous one. Nevertheless he felt less absurd. A distant presage of triumph stole into his mind.
"Don't you want me to go?" he asked.
"You may go wherever you like," said she.
Tom came still nearer. Adela held out her hand and said "good-bye." Tom took the hand and held it.
"You see," he said, "I didn't think I had anywhere else to go. I did know a charming lady who was very witty and—very rich——!"
"I—I'll put some more in Omofaga and lose it. Oh, you are stupid, Tom! I really thought I should have to ask you myself, Tom. I'd have done it sooner than let you go."
It was not, happily, in the end necessary, and Adela said with a sigh,
"I believe that I've something to thank Mr. Ruston for, after all."
"What's that?"
"Why, he made me resolved to marry the man who of all the world was most unlike him."