“It’s just what she never will do,” he said. “She’ll expect to see us off.”
Her answer was the dismayed sound that escaped her lips. She put her hand out with a gesture that warned him back. They were like a small secret conclave, shut in their alcove behind the curtains, stilled in the middle of their plots.
A door down the hall had softly closed. They saw Julia stand for a moment outside the door of Longacre’s room. Then she turned and came slowly along the hall. She was coming down upon them, and with every step she overwhelmed them more. Such a strange Julia, so pale, so unimperious, with all her sparkle stilled! Yet she shone! Her great dilated eyes, her face, dawning on them, glimmering by, looked aghast with happiness.
Florence was trembling. Her eyes were on the narrow slit between the curtains where that vision of Julia had passed. She could not speak immediately when she finally turned to Thair. He was looking at her with the oddest possible expression.
“Well, it doesn’t matter about Mrs. Budd now,” he said. His usually smooth voice sounded uneven. “She’s done for!”
At this the lines in her forehead grew deep. “If one could only make it easier for her! It is dreadful! But—didn’t you see, just now?—it was the only thing to do!”
“Dear girl,” he earnestly assured her, “that you think so is enough for me! But you can’t show it to her, poor lady!”
She looked at him with a sudden flash. “You could make it easier.”
“Such a strange Julia!”