She motioned him back. “Oh, don’t misunderstand me. I can’t do this. I told Daddy, when he was here, that it was Hugh or no one for me. Even to please him then I couldn’t change. I can’t change now.”
“And Hugh—that’s the only reason?” Pryde persisted doggedly. But he spoke breathlessly now, for a fear had chilled in on his ardor: did she suspect him? had she found anything? What had she and Latham said to each other? “Is that the only reason, Helen?” he besought her again.
“Yes,” she replied, considering him gravely.
“Then perhaps in time,” he begged.
She rose impatiently and crossed to another seat, speaking as she went. His nearness annoyed her.
“No, Stephen, never.”
He blanched, but again he would have spoken, but Helen gave him no time. “Now, please,” she said very clearly, “leave me here for a little while—I want to be alone here.”
“No,” he exclaimed peremptorily, with sudden fear. “No, I can’t leave you here—not in this room, anywhere else, but not here. This room is bad for you. Come.”
“You are to go,” she told him quietly, “and now, please.”
“Why—why do you want to be alone—here?” he pleaded.