"It wouldn't help her, it wouldn't help anybody, to have me as I am now," she said. "I can't tell you—I can't explain. But—I am not fit to associate with anyone good."
Scott leaned towards her. "Dinah, my dear, you are torturing yourself," he said. "It's natural, I know. You have had no sleep, and you have cried yourself ill. But I am not going to give in to you. I am not going to take No for an answer. You have no plans for yourself, and I doubt if in your present state you are capable of forming any. Isabel wants you, and it would be cruel to disappoint her. So you and I will join her at Great Mallowes this afternoon. I will deal with your people in the matter, but I do not anticipate any great difficulty in that direction. Now that is settled, and you need not weary yourself with any further discussion. I am responsible, and I will bear my responsibility."
His tone was kind but it held unmistakable finality.
Dinah uttered a heavy sigh, and said no more. She lacked the strength for prolonged opposition.
He persuaded her to drink some more of the milk, and made a cushion of his coat for her against the tree.
"Perhaps you will get a little sleep," he said, as she suffered herself to relax somewhat. "Will it disturb you if I smoke?"
"No," she said.
He took out his case. "Shut your eyes!" he said practically.
But Dinah's eyes remained open, watching him. He began to smoke as if unaware of her scrutiny.
After several moments she spoke. "Scott!"