"Why, I can't tell you how glad I am! How tremendously happy that makes me!"
She sat back in her cushioned seat, still as a sculptured lady, hands clasped on her silken lap, eyes gone off down the street, though not for vision, to where Hare was thundering a splendid peroration. He had already become aware, without looking at her, that she was richly and beautifully dressed; but he was hardly prepared for the effect which such a setting would have upon her face. For all his conjuring of memory, he had forgotten that she looked quite like that….
"Yes … it makes me happy, too. And my mother wants to ask you—no, I do—that is, both of us want to ask you—if you won't allow us to go down … in the yacht?"
Misunderstanding, the senseless world started mad antics again; but Intelligence, which saw more clearly, reached out a long arm and jerked it firmly back on its feet.
"Allow you! It's exactly what I'd like most immensely. She's all ready for you—I'll have my things off her in no time—catch the eight-ten to-night and go straight to congratulate Uncle Elbert. How great to see him so happy! I 'll run right down to the yacht this minute and attend to it."
"There is nothing to attend to … is there? You said she was all ready. Of course we could not let you—leave her. We could not go in the yacht … unless you will go with us."
But speech stuck in his throat like a bone gone wrong. She would get no help from him; that was evident. If suffering had wrought miracles of absolution, she alone could make that plain.
"You came to Hunston … to take me to my father … didn't you?" said
Mary Carstairs. "Why … won't you do it?"
A fugitive wave of pallor ran up her cheek, leaving its white trail behind. She knew now that she had said the last word to him that she could say, and that if he wanted to go away, he must go. The heavy curtain of her lashes fell, veiling her eyes … but, as it chanced, fell slowly. He had turned at her words, very quickly; he caught the curtain half-drawn, and a look come and gone like an arrow had shot through those windows into the lit place beyond.
"I could only do that," he began unsteadily—"I—you know how it is with me…. To the longest day I live—I'll love you … with every breath I draw. I could not do that—unless … Will you marry me?"