"You must bring out the sketches and let me see them. I'm tremendously interested."
"I will—mail them to you," he said heavily. Slowly, as if reluctant, he took her hand again, held it just a moment, and then, with a suddenness that overwhelmed her, seized her in his arms and kissed her hotly on the lips. Then, like a shadow, he fled.
For a long time after he had gone Judith sat on the balustrade, listening to the myriad noises of the night, and pondering on what had befallen her. It had been a very eventful day. She smiled as she pondered on its contrasts. But she sobered as she thought of Imrie. She felt her cheek grow warm as she recalled his kiss. Then a faint smile widened her lips at the impetuosity of it. It was so unlike him. He had never shown such—she knew he would call it disrespect—but that was not the word she would use. She hoped he would not apologise. That would spoil it all. Perhaps—if he were a little less respectful....
She could love Imrie the man, she reflected, as she walked slowly into the house. But Imrie the clergyman—she knew for a certainty that that was impossible.
CHAPTER IV
OIL AND WATER
I
"You see, Miss Wynrod, I'm as sound as a nut. I can gambol like a lamb. I am ready again to dance to the world's piping."