'I don't think I shall go to work this morning,' he replied quietly.
She became silent. Thyrza had drawn a chair to the table. One saw that she had risen with difficulty—that she with difficulty sat upright.
Gilbert, without speaking, went and sat by her. Lydia was dreading questions, but she did injustice to the delicacy of his mind. Mrs. Grail just said: 'You're very pale still, dear,' and nothing more.
The meal was made as short as possible. Then Lydia helped Mrs. Grail to take the things to the kitchen. Thyrza, before coming down, had asked to be left alone with Gilbert for a few minutes.
Grail was at the window, watching the rain. He heard Thyrza approaching him, and turned.
'Gilbert,' she said, without raising her eyes, 'I'm behaving very unkindly to you. Will you forgive me?'
'How are you behaving unkindly, Thyrza?' he asked, with gently expressed surprise.
'I've been keeping away from you. I couldn't help it. I don't feel myself.'
'You are ill, Thyrza. Am I to forgive you for that?'
'Yes, I am ill. Gilbert, is it too late to ask you? Will you put it off for a week, one week?'