"We might's well begin to-night," she suggested presently, with diffident, downcast eyes.
"What—the choir?" He was startled. "Oh, I couldn't without a rehearsal—"
"No, I didn't mean that..."
"No?"
"I mean about Roland." She was paying minute attention to the lace insertion of her skirt. From this circumstance he divined that he was on dangerous ground, but could not, in his stupidity, understand just what made it dangerous.
"About Roland—?"
"Yes; I mean... You know what I mean, Mr. Duncan?"
"I assure you I do not, Miss Lockwood."
"About not walking home with him any more. I don't want to. I wish you'd commence to-night, instead of choir practice night. I'd much rather walk home with you."
"After evening service, you mean?" She nodded. "It'll be a great pleasure."