Suddenly she leaned towards him and put her head on his knee. His hand fell on her hair. “This doesn’t mean anything,” she murmured; “but I was just thinking. You’re tempting me again. First with the ring because it was so pretty, and now with a house.”
“How else am I to get you?” he cried out. “And you know you were feeling lonely. That’s why I came.”
“You thought it was your chance?”
“Yes,” he said. “I don’t know the ordinary things, but I know the others.”
“I wonder how,” she said, and he answered with the one word, “Love,” in a voice so deep and solemn that she laughed.
“Do you know,” she said, “I have never had a home. I’ve lived in other people’s houses, with their ugly furniture, their horrid sticky curtains—”
“I shall take that house to-morrow.”
“But you can’t go on collecting things like this. Houses and rings—”
“The ring’s in my pocket now.”
“It must stay there, Charles. I ought not to keep my head on your knee; but it’s comfortable and I have no conscience. None.” She sat up, brushing his chin with her hair. “None!” she said emphatically. “And here’s Aunt Rose coming to fetch me for Aunt Sophia. Mind, I’ve promised nothing. Besides, you haven’t asked me to promise anything.”