There was a brief silence. Ennison spoke at last.
“You will sign the contract?”
“I shall sign the contract. I think that I am very fortunate to have it to sign.”
“Do you mean,” Courtlaw asked, “that from now to the end of the six months you do not wish to see us—any of us?”
Her eyes were a little dim again.
“I do mean that,” she declared. “I want to have no distractions. My work will be all sufficient. I have an aunt who is coming to live with me, and I do not intend to receive any visitors at all. It will be a little lonely sometimes,” she said, looking around at them, “and I shall miss you all, but it is the fairest for myself—and I think for you. Do not avoid me if we meet by accident, but I trust to you all not to let the accident happen if you can help it.”
Brendon rose and came towards her with outstretched hand.
“Good-bye, Miss Pellissier, and success to you,” he said. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us.”
Courtlaw rose too.
“You are of the genus obstinate,” he said. “I do not know whether to wish you success or not. I will wish you success or failure, whichever is the better for you.”