‘I wanted to see you alone, Paul dear,’ she said, ‘and so I came over early. I have a piece of news for you. It is very sad news for me, but I am afraid you will not think it so.’
‘If it grieves you it grieves me,’ said Paul; ‘you can’t have a trouble that I don’t share.’
‘I am going away,’ she said, walking to the window and looking out on a shabby back-yard which was full of rotting scenery and old stage-lumber of all sorts.
‘Going away?’ Paul repeated.
He was dazed and numbed, as if he had received a blow.
‘Yes,’ said Claudia. ‘Mr. Darco and I have never hit it off very well together, and now I am going. I have a very good offer for London, and I leave at the end of next week.’
‘But I can put things right with Mr. Darco,’ said Paul; ‘I know I can.’
‘No,’ she said, with a seeming gentle sadness; ‘it’s quite impossible. My position here has grown intolerable, and, besides that, everything is arranged; I have signed for London this afternoon.’
Paul said nothing for the time, for the intelligence crushed him.
‘I was afraid that you would be hurt,’ she added, after a pause. ‘I am glad to see that you can take it more easily than I can.’