She looked at his workman's clothes.
“What have you been doing?” she asked, sharply.
“Working,” Tavernake answered, “good work, too. I am the better for it. Don't mind my clothes, Beatrice. I have been mad for a time, but after all it has been a healthy madness.”
“It was a strange thing that you did,” she said,—“you disappeared.”
He nodded.
“Some day,” he told her, “I may, perhaps, be able to make you understand. Just now I don't think that I could.”
“It was Elizabeth?” she whispered, softly.
“It was Elizabeth,” he admitted.
They said no more then till they reached the hall. She stopped at the door and put out her hand timidly.
“I shall see you afterwards?” she ventured.