"Maud, Maud!" he said. "Maud, they were crying and calling."
"Ah!" she said, with a sudden interest, "you learned that."
He shook his head.
"I read it three months ago," he said. "It has stuck in my memory. Because everything cries 'Maud, Maud!' to me."
The blush and the averted eye were hers. Quite unconsciously she began to know what Lady Ardingly had meant—what Kitty had meant.
"I am sorry," she said. "I ought never to have come here with you. I thought I should laugh at you merely. I do not laugh; I would sooner cry."
"Thank you for that," said he. "I understand that you do not accept my devotion. What I do not understand is whether you definitely refuse it. Do you refuse it?"
"Do not press me to answer you," she said.
"You postpone your answer!"
"Please."