“I know I will.”
“Then,” said Edith more softly, “it will be because you want to say it.”
“No,” said Thorne, resolutely and of his own motion releasing her hands, which she had allowed him to hold without remonstrance; “it will be because I must.”
He rose to his feet and took up his hat from the table as if, the thing being settled, he had only to go. But the girl observed with secret joy that he made no other effort at departure.
“Oh, you think you must, do you, Captain Thorne?” said Edith, looking up at him mischievously. “You are a very wise person, but you don’t know all that I know.”
“I think that is more than likely, Miss Varney, but won’t you tell me some of the things that you know that I don’t, so that I can approach your knowledge in that respect?”
“I wouldn’t mind telling you one thing, and that is that it is very wrong for you to think of leaving Richmond now.”
“Oh, but you don’t know.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, what do you know?” asked Thorne curiously.