"You'll persuade him to stop? I--I'd rather go home alone," said Julia.
"Because you're tired. Because you don't want him to see it." The words escaped Aliette before she could control them. She covered herself quickly. "I'm sure that must be the reason. I'm sure, if I had a son, I should never want him to think that I was tired."
"You have children then--girls? You couldn't have known otherwise." The novelist in Julia was asleep; she could see no other reason why this "charming creature" should have divined her mentality.
"No. I have no children, worse luck!"
Ronnie came back to say that the brougham waited.
"You mustn't come with me, Ronnie." Julia got to her feet.
"Mater, I insist."
"Persuade him to stay, Mrs. Brunton."
Subconsciously, Aliette knew the incident momentous. His blue eyes were looking down into hers. Behind them she read indecision. He wanted to see his mother home: he wanted to stay with her. She could keep him at her side. Only, if she did keep him--and it would take the littlest look, the littlest gesture,--then she would be interloper indeed.
Consciously now, she made her first sacrifice.