There was a distressing silence. He found it very hard to keep from saying:
“I will! I’m going to work for you, and get you everything in the world you want, darling wild rose!”
And to divert his mind from this dangerous thought, he rose and picked up the book she had had in her hand.
“Are these the ‘views’?” he asked. “Looks very interesting.... Won’t you show them to me?”
And he sat down beside her on the couch. He really didn’t think it a particularly significant or daring thing to do; he had sat beside a great many other girls; he was neither impudent nor presumptuous, and no one ever had objected or seemed at all disturbed. So that he was surprised at Rosaleen’s agitation. He didn’t know how formidable he was to her; how mysterious, how irresistible. Her hands shook as she took the book of views and opened it.
But, before she had spoken a single word, the sound of a footstep in the hall made her jump up and seat herself in a nearby chair with her book, and none too soon, for the curtains parted and a venerable, grey-bearded old gentleman looked in.
“Won’t you come in?” said Rosaleen, while Nick got up.
The old gentleman advanced and held out his hand to Nick with a scholarly sort of smile.
“Good evening, sir!” he said. “I was sorry not to have welcomed you with somewhat greater cordiality when you first came in, but I was hard at my work.”
“Not at all!” Nick murmured.