Even then she hardly realized the situation. Foreseen as it had long been, it had so softened in her own mind—especially after her comparative success in soothing down her grandfather—that she did not realize it remained in Will’s in all its original crudity. “You’re not thinking of that nonsense!” she said, smiling. “We’ll just lift up the latch and walk in! Won’t Gran’fer be surprised?” But her smile was uneasy.
“You’ve forgotten, Jinny, he won’t have me over his doorstep.”
“Oh, is that the reason you didn’t come all the week?” The greyness creeping beneath her happiness began to spread out like a clammy fog.
“Well, how could I have got to you? I couldn’t stand about the Common in the wind and rain on the chance you might catch sight of me.”
“I’d have stood about for you,” she said simply.
“And didn’t I stand about at ‘The Black Sheep’?”
“Yes, that was my fault, sweetheart. But anyhow we won’t stand about here.” And she tugged at his arm. “Where else could you have dinner?”
“I can get some at ‘The King of Prussia.’ I’ll be just in time if I go now.”
“You desert me to get dinner!”
“You know that’s nonsense, dearest, considering I could get both if I came in.”