“I couldn’t help myself.”
Elaine said no more, but looked out over the river, kicking her heel impatiently against the stone of the parapet. How deeply grateful Wilfred was, to be spared her pity. How prompt and honest had been her response—like all her responses to life. While he backed and filled! He was not even sure at this moment that he wanted to marry her. Was there not a feeling of relief amidst all his pain? . . . Ah! if he might only hold her close, close in his arms and stop thinking!
He said: “You’ll catch cold if you continue to sit here.”
Lifting herself on her hands, she sprang down.
“We’ll have to walk a bit before we can hope to find a taxi,” said Wilfred.
“What’s the matter with the car-line?”
“All right. The nearest is on Second Avenue.”
They walked away from the river in a constrained silence. This was harder for Elaine to bear than for Wilfred. After awhile she burst out crossly:
“Oh, bother! You’ve spoiled everything!”
Wilfred smiled. “No,” he said. “You get me wrong. I am not bitter, because I expected nothing.”