"But I wanted to see you," she whispered.
"And then?"
There was a pause.
"Nothing," whispered Patricia again, so low that he could hardly hear her. She immediately afterwards stiffened, discarding his hand as though it had been a loathsome temptation. Edgar stared down at his poor hand. "Nothing—nothing at all."
"It's done you good to see me?" he asked. He could see a quick little nodding. "Well, that's something, don't you think?"
"You're good," said Patricia. "You're better than me."
"Of course, I'm extraordinarily good," Edgar agreed. "But—"
"Silly!" It was a sort of ashamed mumble that he heard. "Well, I'm going now."
"Oh, not yet." He had tried to take her hand; but Patricia eluded him, and bent forward to open the door. The catch was difficult, and she could not master it. Edgar also bent forward, both arms extended; and it seemed so much easier to take Patricia in his arms than to undo the catch of the door that he could not help following the easier course.
"No!" cried Patricia, succeeding with the catch, and almost tumbling out of the car. She shut the door firmly behind her; and Edgar, inside, looked out upon Patricia, who stood without. The window upon that side of the car was raised, and so communication between them was impossible. Edgar opened the door. "Don't get out," said Patricia, quickly. "Thank you very much for coming for me. It was awfully good of you to come."