Mr. Symington came close to her.
"Mabs," he said, "just for three minutes I mean to call you Mabs. And after that--if you are offended--you can turn me off to the ends of the earth again. You know why I left before."
She bent her head a little.
"You didn't want me to go? You didn't want me to go! Say that much, won't you?"
She could not answer.
"I know what it means if you do," he said. "Oh don't I know what it means? Mabs, I'm going to make you care for me--as I do for you--can you possibly imagine how much I care for you--why won't you speak to me?"
Mabel never spoke to him at all.
He happened to take her hand just then, and the same confidence which had so strangely come to her a few days ago on his arrival, came to her once more. He took her hand, and time stood still.
Somebody outside, a vague time afterwards, called for Mabel. It dawned on them both that they were attending Isobel's wedding.
"We ought to go downstairs," whispered Mabel.