“Have you? It would have done nicely,” he said smiling.
“You are different to-night,” she said, leaning on him.
“Am I?” he replied—“It’s because things are altered too. They’re settled one way now—for the present at least.”
“Don’t forget the two steps this time,” said she smiling, and adding seriously, “You see, I couldn’t help it.”
“No, why not?”
“Things! I have been brought up to expect it—everybody expected it—and you’re bound to do what people expect you to do—you can’t help it. We can’t help ourselves, we’re all chess-men,” she said.
“Ay,” he agreed, but doubtfully.
“I wonder where it will end,” she said.
“Lettie!” he cried, and his hand closed in a grip on her’s.
“Don’t—don’t say anything—it’s no good now, it’s too late. It’s done; and what is done, is done. If you talk any more, I shall say I’m tired and stop the dance. Don’t say another word.”