"Why?" he said.
She could not tell him. But in a vague fashion his arm comforted her; and that also was beyond explanation.
"You are not angry?" she whispered.
"No," he said.
"You will be," she said, shivering, "when I have told you my decision."
"What is your decision?" he asked.
She did not answer him; she could not.
He moved, and very gently set her free. There was a chair by the table from which he had evidently just risen. He turned to it and sat down, watching her under his hand.
"What is your decision?" he asked again.
She shook her head. Her agony of fear was passing, but still she could not tell him yet.