“I got through my work earlier than I expected,” he began. “When they told me how far it was, I thought it would be too late for you to come home alone.”
If he expected her to thank him for the consideration, he was disappointed. The wind that the falls generated had blown some of the waves of her hair across her face. She carelessly brushed it back with her hands. A strand of rebellious hair, that seemed unmanageable, she pulled out and threw away.
“Stop that.” Glenn tapped her fingers lightly. “Haven’t I told you not to do that? It’s a crime to ill use such hair as yours.”
Esther obeyed him, but could not resist the impulse to say: “You may look like Christ, but you can act like the devil.”
She saw him drop his head and walk a few steps away.
“You might as well have come on with me if you were coming anyhow.”
He did not look at her.
“I told you I would come, if you would wait until to-morrow. It was a poem for you I wanted to finish.”
Esther went to his side, penitent; the act had lost its sharp outlines to her.
“The words that you said someone would set to music for me?”