"Did he?"
"He did not. He told me himself that he wrote a kind letter with a stern refusal."
And so they talked; talked into the best part of an hour, now of the city's activities, now of the Governor, now of the success of the campaign, until Anderson felt that he had long overstayed his leave.
"I am sorry to leave your company." Then to Marjorie, "At Shippen's tomorrow?"
"Yes. Will you come for me? If you won't I daresay I shall meet you there."
"Of course I shall come. Please await me."
III
That there was a state of pure sensation and of gay existence for Marjorie in the presence of this man, she knew very well; and while she felt that she did not care for him, nevertheless she was conscious of a certain subtle influence about him which she was powerless to define. It has been said that not all who know their mind know their own heart; for the heart often perceives and reasons in a manner wholly peculiar to itself. Marjorie was aware of this and the utmost effort was required of her to respond solely to the less alluring promptings of her firm will.
She would allow him to see her again that she might learn more about him and his strange origin. Stephen had suggested to her the merest suspicion concerning him. There was the possibility that the germ of this suspicion might develop,—and in her very presence. The contingency was certainly equal to the adventure.