‘You prefer me as I was last time?’
‘Not I, indeed. You make me feel that it will be very hard to leave you. I shall carry away a picture of you quite different from the dreary face that I had got to be afraid of.’
Nancy laughed, and of a sudden held out her hands to him.
‘Haven’t I thought of that? These were the very words I hoped to hear from you. Now beg for a kiss, and you shall have one.’
Never, perhaps, had they spent together so harmonious an evening. Nancy’s tenderness took at length a graver turn, but she remained herself, face and speech untroubled by morbid influence.
‘I won’t see you again,’ she said, ‘because I mightn’t be able to behave as I can to-day. To-day I am myself; for a long time I have been living I don’t know how.’
Tarrant murmured something about her state of health.
‘Yes, I know all about that. A strange thought came to me last night. When my father was alive I fretted because I couldn’t be independent; I wanted to be quite free, to live as I chose; I looked forward to it as the one thing desirable. Now, I look back on that as a time of liberty. I am in bondage, now—threefold bondage.’
‘How threefold?’
‘To you, because I love you, and couldn’t cease loving you, however I tried. Then, to my father’s will, which makes me live in hiding, as if I were a criminal. And then—’