"I'll try," he smiled. "Will you promise never to run away from me again?
"Where should I run?"
He meditated a moment and then said with a smile:
"To Trevelyan M—"
But she put her fingers over his lips before he could finish.
"Don't Philidor. Wherever I went, I should not go to Trevvy." She laughed. "He cast me off, you know."
"Cast you off?"
She nodded. "He heard that story at Rood's Knoll after I had gone. The next day he came to my house in town. I saw him. He wore a woe-begone expression and silently presented a clipping from a paper." She laughed again. "He looked like a virtuous undertaker presenting a bill, long overdue, for the interment of some lightly mourned relative. He asked me if the story were true. I said it was—and he went out of the house—casting not even one longing, lingering look behind!"
"But it wasn't true."
"That's just the point—but he thought so. Would you have believed me that kind of a girl? You could have, you know, and didn't." She sighed happily, and sank back into his arms. "I think I don't want people to be too excellent, Philidor. Just human—"