Clara stitched on, Alexander did not look up, and Edward Webb became aware of more than that striving, imprisoned thing. He felt the contest of human wills. He was afraid to move, lest he should throw the balance to one side or the other, but he could see Clara's face, and he watched it. He thought he saw decision and indecision chasing each other there before she laid her work in her lap and spoke to Rutherford.
"I wish you'd go to Janet's for me, Jim."
"Is it important? I wasn't thinking of going that way."
She hesitated before she answered. "Yes; I'd like you to go."
"All right, I will if I have time."
Alexander looked up swiftly, but dropped his chin into his hands again and his eyes to his book.
"Let me have your pen, Alec." She wrote a note while Rutherford pulled on his boots. "Here, keep it in your pocket." She held out his overcoat, and when he had put it on she laid her hands on his shoulders for an instant. "Come back soon," Edward Webb heard her say softly, and then there was the sound of Rutherford's boots in the yard.
"Did you see to the geese, Alec?" It was her nightly question.
"No. I'll do it now."
"Better take your coat."