It was impossible for Wareham to speak. He pressed Hugh’s hand, and he was thinking more of Hugh than Anne.
“Only—”
A pause.
“I told you I was a dog in the manger.”
“Tell me what you wish, old fellow.”
“I want to be remembered—just for a little. I don’t want you to speak just yet.”
“I couldn’t.”
The dull eyes brightened.
“You promise?”
“Sacredly. And, Hugh, I’ve no right to think she ever will consent.”