“I know,” she said; and she thought of the rainbows and the angels: he had played as out of her own soul.
“May he come?” asked Jules, loyally remembering his instructions.
“Yes.”
“He asks if he might come this evening?”
“Very well.”
“Auntie, he is going away, because of ... because of ...”
“Because of what, Jules?”
“Because of you: because you don’t like him and will not marry him! Mamma says so....”
She made no reply; she lay sobbing, with her head against Jules’ head.
“Is it true, Auntie? No, it is not true, is it?...”