She looked at him calmly and thoughtfully before replying, with an indifference which was not quite complimentary:
'You must not allow this ... this calamity to make any difference. I quite understand the position you are in. Of course you are pledged to this man?...'
Trist nodded a brief acquiescence.
'Then you must go. I can manage quite well alone. Mrs. Wylie is much better this morning, though she is still dull and horribly apathetic. We will go home as quickly as we can.'
There was something in her voice, a slight catch, which he could not understand, and of course he misread it. The last few words were spoken in a peculiar monotone, with feverish haste.
'I feel horribly selfish,' he said, 'thinking of my own affairs at this time. No, Brenda. I cannot go and leave you in such a fix—alone.'
'I want you to go, Theo; I do really. It would never do for you to miss this chance. You are pledged to this man (who sits comfortably at home), and I would never forgive myself if I thought that you stayed here on my account. Besides, you are a sort of public servant; it is your duty to go.'
'Yes,' he said, catching at the phrase uneasily; 'it is certainly my duty. It is my duty ... to go.'
She stood beside him quite still. Then she moved a step nearer to him and laid her hand upon his shoulder.
'Theo,' she pleaded, 'you must go. To please me, pack up and go.'