“I’m sorry,” he said humbly. “I’ve often done it before and you never minded.”
“It’s quite different now. It’s unbearable. I don’t like it any more, I hate it. Do you hear, Christopher?”
“Yes. It was unpardonable. I am sorry, Patricia, I won’t do it again.”
“You won’t try to understand me like that? Promise,” she urged.
“I didn’t try then. I only knew. I promise I won’t tell you again.”
“That’s not enough,” she persisted, twisting her fingers under cover of the long sleeves. “You mustn’t know. You must not be able to do it. I won’t bear it. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Then promise.”
“I’ve promised all I can. I certainly won’t try to know. I can’t help it involuntarily.”
“You must. I insist—Christopher, quick.”