“You’ll cry your eyes out to-morrow,” he warned.
“Oh, to-night!” she assured him recklessly.
“Because you don’t love me. You throw all the blame on me; but it’s your own pride that’s the real trouble, Jenny. You want to come round gradually; and time’s too short for it. Remember, I’m away again to-morrow. Did you forget that?”
Jenny shivered. She had forgotten everything but her grievance.
“How long will you be away?” she asked.
“Three months at least. Does it matter?” She reproached his bitterness by a glance. “Jenny, dear,” he went on; “when time’s so short, is it worth while to quarrel? You see what it is: if you don’t try and love me you’ll go home unhappy, and we shall both be unhappy. I told you I’m not a free man. I’m not. I want to be free. I want to be free all the time; and I’m tied ...”
“You’re still talking about yourself,” said Jenny, scornfully, on the verge of tears.
vi
Well, they had both made their unwilling attempts at reconciliation; and they were still further estranged. They were not loving one another; they were just quarrelsome and unhappy at being able to find no safe road of compromise. Jenny had received a bitter shock; Keith, with the sense that she was judging him harshly, was sullen with his deeply wounded heart. They both felt bruised and wretched, and deeply ashamed and offended. And then they looked at each other, and Jenny gave a smothered sob. It was all that was needed; for Keith was beside her in an instant, holding her unyielding body, but murmuring gentle coaxing words into her ear. In an instant more Jenny was crying in real earnest, buried against him; and her tears were tears of relief as much as of pain.