"It's not right, Sally, you going about with other fellows. What I mean, you think it's all right, but what do they think?"
"I don't care what they think. I don't care what anybody thinks, except you. And if you don't trust me, well...."
Toby was manifestly terrified at the removal of her arm from his. He caught it again, but she wrenched free. For a few moments they walked along together in dead silence, gloomy and disunited. Toby clenched his fists. He looked about him, and uneasily rocked his head and cleared his throat. Sally knew that he was reassuring himself by saying internally that if that was the tone she was going to take....
"You see...." he began.
"Oh, shut up!" cried Sally, savagely. "I've had enough of it." A moment later he heard a little sob from her, and moved close, overcome with his consternation. At his touch she started away. Here it was that Toby's physical strength served. He was easily able to put his arms round her, and hold her closely. A voice from the faintly struggling Sally wailed: "You don't trust me.... You'd better get some other girl...."
"I do! I do!" Toby swore. "Damn it all, Sally. I mean to say...."
"Bring me out ... make me miserable...." came the strangled little voice.
Toby was conquered. Sally knew that she had him at her mercy. She had known it all along. She had been enjoying herself, enjoying this second quarrel as much as the first one, because she knew exactly what the outcome would be. A quarrel is always worth while to a loving girl, for the sake of the reconciliation. They were the sweetest moments of the day, because in them was begun the true softening of hearts and rousing of the emotions which later gave them so much delight. Toby and Sally were happy all the rest of the afternoon and evening, and loved one another; and when it was dark, and none could observe them, Toby kissed Sally with all the fervour that he had saved up in his long days away from her. He kissed her lips and her cheeks and her eyes, and crushed the life out of her with his powerful arms. And Sally, at first laughing, had grown quieter and quieter in his arms as her joy in his love had deepened. They stood there, far above the river, in the gloaming, with the leaves whispering and slowly floating down through the air as they fell from above. Presently the moon rose, and in the moonlight the two wandered together, and forgot all their plans and ambitions and jealousies. Both were given over entirely to the moment and to the passion of the moment, which was still as strong as it had ever been.
xiii
A fortnight passed. Gaga came and went. Sally had no word with him, because he could not speak to her in the workroom or in his mother's room, and because she never met him (as she half expected to do) in the street. Sally often thought of their evening together, but gradually, as Gaga took no further step, she became sceptical about his plan, and she hardened towards him. Already her active mind was casting about for new outlets. She visited Mrs. Perce, and repaid ten shillings of the amount she owed her. She wrote to Toby, walked with Harry Simmons, had conversations with Miss Summers and Muriel and Mrs. Minto. And so the days passed. But at length Gaga took the awaited step. He met her one evening, as if by accident, upon the stairs, and immediately stopped. She had gone past him when Gaga found his tongue, and checked Sally's progress by a stammering. She waited.