She put it in his hand and hung back to watch the effect it should have on him. He looked pleased, but to her surprise seemed reluctant to accept it. She broke in on his muttered excuses.
"Tommy rot! I saw by your face that you liked it. Hold out your finger." She kissed the ring and also kissed his finger. "How does it go? ... With this ring I thee wed, with this body I thee worship.... There now. It's on. We're as good as—no, worse than married! Kiss me, you dear King. I don't mind your going so very much so long as you'll be glad to come back." Her lips quivered. "We've never been parted before."
"What's three weeks?" said Woolf lightly.
"I shall be a gray-haired old woman by the time you come back."
"Good Heavens! You're crying!"
"No, I'm not," she denied, hiding her face.
"Silly Maggy." He took her in his arms. "Cry afterwards. I'm not gone yet."
XXXIII
"I've brought them back."
Maggy had come to restore the borrowed jewels to Chalfont. It was late afternoon of the following day. She was dressed in gray with touches of black, and her face wore a subdued expression. Woolf had left for the Continent by the morning boat train.