“John,” she said, slowly, “you know why he is here.' You know that he has come to personally offer you this place; to personally receive your refusal—or consent.”
She ceased to speak; there was a moment of suspense; then Loder turned. His face was still pale and grave with the gravity of a man who has but recently been close to death, but beneath the gravity was another look—the old expression of strength and self-reliance, tempered, raised, and dignified by a new humility.
Moving forward, he held out his hands.
“My consent or refusal,” he said, very quietly, “lies with—my wife.”