She did not answer; and in a sort of pet he added:
“Well, I daresay I shan't see him, because I suppose I must be off soon.”
“Soon?”
“Your aunt won't want to keep me here.”
“Oh, yes! We always let lodgings in summer.”
Fixing his eyes on her face, he asked:
“Would you like me to stay?”
“Yes.”
“I'm going to say a prayer for you to-night!”
She flushed crimson, frowned, and went out of the room. He sat, cursing himself, till his tea was stewed. It was as if he had hacked with his thick boots at a clump of bluebells. Why had he said such a silly thing? Was he just a towny college ass like Robert Garton, as far from understanding this girl?