“I am afraid,” he said quietly, “that you are in a nervous, hypersensitive state. No one else can possibly know of the little transaction between us, and, so far as I am concerned, there has been nothing to interfere with your relations with your husband.”
“You are right,” she answered, “I am losing my nerve. I am only afraid that I am losing something else. I haven’t an ounce of battle left in me. I feel that I should like to close my eyes and wake up in a new world, and start all over again.”
“It is nothing but a mood,” he assured her. “Those new worlds don’t exist any longer. They generally consist of foreign watering places where the sheep and the goats house together now and then. I think I should play the game out, Lady Ruth, until—”
“Until what?”
“Perhaps to the end,” he answered. “Who can tell? Not I! By this time tomorrow, it might be I who would be reminding you—”
“Yes?”
“That there are other worlds, and other lives to live!”
“I should like,” she whispered very softly, “to hear of them. But I fancy somehow that you will never be my instructor. What of your ward?”
“Well! What of her?” he answered calmly.
She shivered a little.