THE AIR OF CONQUEST
I
She sat very silently, the way he had seen men sit when they were wounded. She had been expecting the blow and trying to postpone it; now that it had fallen her only feeling was one of peace because the expecting was ended. Her face remained turned towards him, as it had been while he had been talking. As though a mask had dropped, the real, very tired, very young, very lonely Maisie watched him. The wistfulness of her beauty surprised and touched him. Several times her lips moved in an attempt to say something. Then, at last, "What right have you to ask?"
"I should like to claim the right of friendship."
"Of friendship!" She frowned slightly, peering from beneath the lamp in an effort to make out his features. Then her eyes cleared and she smiled. "If you don't mean it, please don't say it. You see, it would hurt afterwards. And—and I should like to have you for my friend."
"Mrs. Lockwood, why can't you let Adair alone?"
He came over from the fireplace and seated himself beside her. "We've been almost enemies—just a little afraid of each other. Isn't that so? It's ever
so much more comfortable now; we'll be able to talk more easily. Tell me honestly, what do you see in Adair?"