She was for telling everyone at once but Langley demurred. Going to the office next morning she lingered to enjoy her own anticipations. It was different now. All restraints were over between them, she thought.
He was not there. That was the first disappointment. Later, when he came in, there were other men with him and his greeting was as formal as it had been the day before. She bent over her work, went out on assignments with her mind repeating and repeating every quiver of incident of the night before. At five o’clock she was alone again and he came in. But instead of going to the inner office he came to her desk and as she looked up she saw that his face was suffering, greatly stirred.
“Horatia,” he asked, “did you mean it—do you mean it now—in daylight?”
She lifted her arms towards him and was swept off her feet.
“My God,” she heard him say, “I was so sure you couldn’t have meant it. I can’t fight any longer.”
“Do you know that every footstep of yours about this office has sounded in my heart?”
“My arms are so weary with waiting.”
“I never hoped—but once in a while I dreamed, although I had no right—no right at all.”
He was a wonderful lover, so wonderful that he silenced her own enthusiasms.
But again he grew fearful.