Mallard rose.
"Then I must still wait. Some day you will tell me, I think."
He held his hand to her, then turned away; but in a moment faced her again.
"One word—a yes or no. Do you believe what I have told you? Do you believe it absolutely? Look at me, and answer."
She flushed, and met his gaze almost as intensely as when he compelled her confession.
"Do you put absolute faith in what I have said?"
"I do."
"That is something."
He smiled very kindly, and so this dialogue of theirs ended.
A few days later, the Spences gathered friends about their dinner-table. Mallard was of the invited. The necessity of donning society's uniform always drew many growls from him; he never felt at his ease in it, and had a suspicion that he looked ridiculous. Indeed it suited him but ill; it disguised the true man as he appeared in his rough travelling apparel, and in the soiled and venerable attire of the studio.