The words were unlike her, the tone was such as he had never heard her use. Do what he could, he could not help the answering light which sprang into his own eyes.
“I am still in London,” he said. “I thought you were to go to Marienbad?”
“I left it until it was too late,” she answered. “Walk a little way with me,” she added abruptly. “I should like to talk to you.”
“If I may,” he answered simply.
She dismissed the brougham, and they moved on.
“I am sorry,” she began, “that I was rude to you when you brought that girl to me. You did exactly what was nice and kind, and I was hateful. Please forgive me.”
“Of course,” he answered simply. “I felt sure that when you thought it over you would understand.”
“You are not going back—to Thorpe?” she asked.
“Not at present, at any rate,” he answered.