"I have watched for it every day."
There was another pause. Her remark was revealing—yet he dared not hope too far. He felt so near to her, so intimate in that revelation that he feared to deceive himself. Oh, he was for her, now! His heart clamored for possession, yet he could not declare himself. They were upon different spiritual altitudes. Women, before, had come at his whistle. Now he was awkward, timid, excited with expectancy, his heart going hard.
"There is a reason why I was glad to see that change, Mr. Granthope," she continued. He waited for her words eagerly. She looked away, her eyes following the sails in mid-channel. "I'm thinking of leaving town."
The announcement fell upon him like a blow. "You are going away!" he exclaimed, his voice betraying him.
"Not for a week or two, perhaps."
"A week!" The words stung him. "Don't go—yet!" he exclaimed faintly.
"I don't want to go—yet. My aunt in the East has invited me to visit her for six months." She spoke calmly, but did not look at him.
"I'll have to hurry, won't I?" he said with a desperate, whimsical inflection.
"Yes. You'll have to hurry."
For a while he was too agitated to speak. If there had needed anything more to convince him of his state of mind, this sufficed. He was aware, by the sense of shock, how much he cared.