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BUT if she wished him to know she gave no other sign.
She spent the money that he gave her, and when it was gone she asked him for more.
Only once she had said as she took it: “You are sure it is right for me to spend this?”
And he had replied: “When you ask for anything I cannot give you I will let you know.”
She had said nothing. She had not even glanced at him. But somehow he fancied that she understood him.
He grew to know, by intuition, the days when she would go to Merwin’s.
As he left the house he would say: “She will be there—” And when he dropped in, in the afternoon, he did not even need to glance at the alcove on the right. He would sit down quietly in his place across the aisle, glad to be with her.
He never saw her come and go and he did not know whether any one was with her—behind her curtain. He tried not to know.... He was trying to understand Rosalind. What was it drew her? Was it music—or the quiet place? Or was there———?