“Then I don’t want to hear it.”
“But you must, dear. Remember all you’ve said. Listen to me, pray.”
“Well, go on. What is it?”
“Rob, dear, I’m in misery—in agony always. You’re staying again at Brackley, and after all you said.”
“Man can’t do as he likes, stupid little goose; not in society. I must break it off gently.”
There was a low moan out of the darkness where the two figures stood, and, added to the mysterious aspect of the lane where all was black below, but silvered above by the moonbeams.
“What a sigh,” whispered Rolph.
“Rob, dear, pray. Be serious now. I want you to listen. You must break all that off.”
“Of course. It’s breaking itself off. Society flirtation, little goose; and if you’ll only be good, all will come right.”
“Oh, Rob, if you only knew!”