“But,” the tone changed, “perhaps you’ll see him on your way home.”
“Yes, and then I can tell him instead.”
The tears overflowed, she was helplessly angry, she sobbed.
“Be quiet,” Rose said sternly. “I shall tell him nothing. You know that. You are quite safe, whatever you choose to say to me. Perfectly safe.”
“I know. I can’t help it. I lie here and think. What would you do in my place?”
“The same thing, I suppose,” Rose said.
“And you won’t go?”
“Yes, I’m going. You can tell Francis I was obliged to get home early.”
“But you’ll come again?”
“Oh, yes, I’ll come again.”