A distressful look came into her eyes as she sought for inspiration to give me answer.
"Must you always have a woman's reason before you grant the favor she is asking?"
"It's a good policy," said I.
"Yes—but what's the good of being political with a woman?"
"It needs more than politics," said I, smiling, "if one's going to get the better of her. Can't you tell me why you want me to stay?"
"No—I can't."
"Well, now, that's a reasonable answer," I replied, "for now I know."
"You can know as much as you like if you stay until Wednesday, and then I'll tell you how wrong you were."
So I have agreed, and here it is Sunday morning. As far as is possible I know it has something to do with Clarissa. Beyond that I am absolutely in the dark.
At about eleven o'clock Bellwattle asked me to come out with her for the last time to see the cottage in the hollow, and as we walked up the boreen on our way to the cliff I determined, at the expense even of my honor, to try and surprise her into the truth.