“Did I? Perhaps I did. But I must sometimes be allowed to change my mind,” Mrs. Clephane murmured, forcing a thin smile.
“To change your mind about being with us? You don’t want to, then, after all?”
Mrs. Clephane pushed the tray away and propped herself on her elbow. “No, I don’t want to.”
“How you say it, mother! As if I were a stranger. I don’t understand....” The girl’s lip was beginning to tremble. “I thought ... Chris and I both thought....”
“I’m sorry. But I must really decide as I think best. When you are married you won’t need me.”
“And shan’t you need me, mother? Not a little?” Anne hesitated, and then ventured, timidly: “You’re so alone—so awfully alone.”
“I’ve always been that. It can’t be otherwise. You’ve chosen ... you’ve chosen to be married....”
Anne stood up and looked down on her with searching imperious eyes. “Is it my being married—or my being married to Chris?”
“Ah—don’t let us talk of that again!”
The girl continued to scrutinize her strangely. “Once for all—you won’t tell me?”