She was white to the lips, but kept her eyes on him steadily.
'And you go away at once?'
'I had thought'—he began; then added, 'Yes, at once; it is better.'
'Yes, better. Your friend stays and makes all ready for your return. Perhaps I shall not see you after to-day, for that time. Then we are to each ether what we used to be. You will bring her to hear me sing? I shall not give it up now.'
She smiled, moved a little away from him, then turned again and gave her hand for leave-taking.
'Wilfrid!'
'Beatrice?'
'She would not grudge it me. Kiss me—the last time—on my lips!'
He kissed her. When the light came again to his eyes, Beatrice had gone.
In the evening Emily sat expectant. Either Wilfrid would come or there would be a letter from him; yes, he would come; for, after reading what she had written, the desire to speak with her must be strong in him. She sat at her window and looked along the dull street.