“It is not; but, if it were, I would get those for you easily enough.”
She laughed, but not merrily.
“I think you overestimate your powers.”
Aubrey’s face looked in that moment as if carved in wood, save for the steady shining of his light eyes. He said, quietly:
“Oh, I do, do I? Well, you shall see.”
They were both silent for a few moments, and then Annie heard her cue and went on.
This conversation took place on a Thursday evening, and during the next two days Annie avoided Aubrey still, and he did not again seek an interview with her, but contented himself with simple greetings, and with watching her quite unobtrusively. She missed his companionship keenly, far too keenly. She did not dare to leave the house all day, fearing as much to meet him as to meet any of the Braithwaites, yet holding her breath when there was a knock at the front door, in the hope that he at least had come to ask after her. But he did not come. On Saturday night, as she was leaving the theater, Aubrey came out, followed by a boy carrying his portmanteau. For the first time for three days, he ran after her.
“Good-bye, Miss Langton; I am going to town.”
Annie started.
“What! You are going away?”