“Edmund, suppose you go home, and let me come back by myself? You wouldn’t mind, for once? I should like so much to have a talk with Milly. If I got back about nine or half-past, I could have a little supper, and that’s all I should want.”
He answered abruptly,—
“Oh, but I can’t have you going about alone at night.”
“Why not?” answered Monica, with a just perceptible note of irritation. “Are you afraid I shall be robbed or murdered?”
“Nonsense. But you mustn’t be alone.”
“Didn’t I always use to be alone?”
He made an angry gesture.
“I have begged you not to speak of that. Why do you say what you know is disagreeable to me? You used to do all sorts of things that you never ought to have been obliged to do, and it’s very painful to remember it.”
Monica, seeing that people were approaching, walked on, and neither spoke until they had nearly reached the end of the road.
“I think we had better go home,” Widdowson at length remarked.