"Then you feel that we have drifted a little already?"
"I don't know what has come over you, Aggy, but there has been a change. I'm what I was, and I want to keep you."
Agatha rose and turned towards him rather white in face. "Then if you are wise you will not urge me now."
Hawtrey met her gaze for a moment, and then made a sign of acquiescence as he turned his eyes away. He recognised that this was a new Agatha, one whose will was stronger than his. Yet he was half-astonished that he had yielded so readily.
"Well," he said, "if it must be, I can only give way to you, but I must be free to come over here whenever I wish." Then a thought seemed to strike him. "But you may have to go away," he added, with sudden concern. "If I am to wait six months, what are you to do in the meanwhile?"
The girl smiled wearily. Now the respite had been granted her, the question he had raised was not one that caused her any great concern.
"Oh," she said, "we can think of that later, I have borne enough to-day. This has been a little hard upon me, Gregory."
"I don't think it has been particularly easy for either of us," said Hawtrey, with a trace of grimness. "Anyway, it seems that I'm only distressing you." He smiled wryly. "It's naturally not what I had expected to do. I'll come back when I feel I've quite grasped the situation."
He moved a pace or two nearer, and taking one of her hands swiftly stooped and kissed her cheek.
"My dear," he said, "I only want to make it as easy as I can. You'll try to think of me, favourably."