"Then I'm to be left—here—alone—with nothing to do but wait—perhaps more than a month!"
"I'm afraid so, dear. It's for both of our sakes. So much depends—"
"Jack!" Placing her hands on his shoulders, Joan held him off. "Take me with you," she pleaded earnestly.
"Think a moment, sweetheart. You must see how impossible it is. For one thing, it wouldn't—O it's all very well to say 'Conventions be hanged!' but—it wouldn't look right. We're not married."
"Take me with you, Jack," she repeated stubbornly.
He shook his head. "And, fairly and squarely, dear, I can't afford it. I haven't got enough money. Even if we were married, I'd have to leave you here."
For a moment longer the girl kept her hands upon his shoulders, exploring his face with eyes that seemed suddenly to have been robbed of much of their girlishness. Then: "Very well," she said coldly, and releasing him, she sat back and averted her countenance.
Matthias got up, distressed and perplexed.
"You can't mean your love won't stand the strain of a few weeks' separation, Joan!"
She made no answer. He shrugged, moved to the work-table, found a cigarette and lighted it.