'I have nothing whatever to forgive, but I think it very kind of you to have come.'
'You'll come back again—some day?'
'Very likely, I think.'
'Then I'll say good-bye.'
He looked into her face, and saw how pretty and sweet it was, and felt sorry for her—he did not know why. Their hands held together a moment or two.
'There's no—no message I can deliver for you, Mr. Egremont? I'm to be trusted—I am, indeed.'
'I'm very sure you are, Miss Tyrrell—Oh, pardon me!'
'No, no! I shan't forgive you.' She was laughing, yet almost crying at the same time. 'You must ask me to do something for you, in return for that. How strange that did seem! It was like having been dead and coming to life again, wasn't it?'
'I have no message whatever for anybody, Mrs. Dalmaine; thank you very much.'
'Good-bye, then. No, no, don't come down. Good-bye!'