“Certainly,” said Edith; “in refusing to admit one who is my dearest friend on earth.”
Wiggins drew a long breath, and looked troubled.
“It was distressing to me,” said he at length; “but it could not be.”
At this, Edith felt inexpressibly galled, but for the time restrained herself.
“Perhaps you would have been pleased,” said she, “if I had gone away with her.”
“Oh no,” said Wiggins, dreamily—“oh no.”
“I thought for a time of doing so,” said Edith; “and in that case I should have come to-morrow, or as soon as possible, with the officers of the law, to reply to your orders.”
At this Wiggins looked at her with a strange and solemn glance, which puzzled Edith.
“You would have regretted it,” said he, “eventually.”
“Few would have done as I did,” said Edith, “in coming here alone.”