"Poor little thing!" She spoke abstractedly, as if she were oblivious to Marriott's presence. He was satisfied; it was good just then to sit, merely, and look at her. "I must go to her." And then suddenly she looked up and said in another tone:
"But how am I to do it, Gordon?"
He did not answer at once and she did not wait for a reply, but went on, speaking rapidly, her eyes in a dark glow as her interest was intensified.
"Isn't it a peculiar situation? I don't know how to deal with it. I never was so placed before. You must see the difficulties, Gordon. People, well, people don't go to such places, don't you know? I really don't see how it is possible; it makes me shudder to think of it! Ugh!" She shrugged her shoulders. "What shall you say to her, Gordon?" She said this as if the problem were his, not hers, and showed a relief in this transfer of the responsibility.
"I don't know yet," he said. "Whatever you tell me."
"But you must tell her something; you must make her understand. It won't do for you to hurt the poor girl's feelings."
"Well, I'll just say that I delivered her message and that you wouldn't come."
"Oh, Gordon! How could you be so cruel? You certainly would not be so heartless as to say I wouldn't!"
"Well, then, that you couldn't."
"But she would want a reason, and she'd be entitled to one. What one could you give her? You must think, Gordon, we must both think, and decide on something that will help you out. What are you laughing at?"