‘Will you do as I tell you?’
She moved towards the door, stopped to dry her wet cheeks, half looked round. What she saw sped her on her way.
Adela was just descending the stairs, dressed to go out. Alice let her go past without speaking, but followed her through the hall and into the garden. Adela turned, saying gently—
‘Do you wish to speak to me?’
‘I’m sorry I said those things. I didn’t mean it. I don’t think it was your fault.’
The other smiled; then in that voice which Stella had spoken of as full of forgiveness—
‘No, it is not my fault, Alice. It couldn’t be otherwise.’
‘Don’t think of it another moment.’
Alice would gladly have retreated, but durst not omit what seemed to her the essential because the bitterest words.
‘I beg your pardon.’