After all, he was very fond of her.... She belonged in.... The war had swept away so much ... only the bare verities survived—duty—sleep—home—and Laura.... Surely he meant Laura too, when he thought, out there, of coming home? Suppose he came home one day and found her gone?...
His keen annoyance at the notion was queerly familiar. He had utterly forgotten the incidents of their engagement-day, and that she had ever told him that she might leave Brackenhurst; but he was certainly aware of an old annoyance, and of something newer, stronger than annoyance—a chill, snaky pang that was very like fear.
Laura gone?
Flower o’ the quince.... How the catches rang in his head!
Flower o’ the quince,
I let Lisa go, and what good in life since?
Oh, if it came to that!
He must have spoken aloud, for she lifted her eyes. She was startled to see him coming to her across the room, hard-pressed, in desperate fashion, like a man who would shake off his own shadow. She half rose. She was suddenly frightened. She put out her hands, fending him off.
“Justin—Justin—be sure——”
She fell back in her chair because he was so near.