"What is it, Gregory? Why do you look at me like that?" she asked.
Hawtrey smiled in a rather curious fashion. Hitherto she had made her appeal through his senses to one side of his nature only. There was no doubt on that point, but now it seemed there were in her qualities he had never suspected. She had desired him as a husband, but it was becoming clear that she would not be content with the mere possession of him. Sally, it seemed, had wider ideas in her mind, and, though the thing seemed almost ludicrous, she wanted to be proud of him.
"My dear," he said, "I can't quite tell you—but you have made me rather badly ashamed. In some respects, I'm afraid it's a very rash thing you are going to do."
She looked at him with candid perplexity, and then appeared to dismiss the subject with a smile.
"There is so much I want to say, and it mayn't be so easy—afterwards," she said. "It's a pity the train starts so soon."
"We can get over that difficulty, anyway," said Hawtrey. "I'll come on as far as I can with you, and get back from one of the way stations by the Pacific express."
Sally made no objections, and drawing a little closer to him she talked on in a low voice earnestly.