“My will not to speak for a while,” said Annie, faintly.
“Not to speak—to any one?”
Annie nodded.
“Then you have broken your resolution by speaking to me?”
Annie nodded again.
“But why shouldn't you speak? I don't understand.”
“I wondered how little I could say, and have you satisfied,” Annie replied, sadly.
Tom tightened his arm around her. “You precious little soul,” he said. “I am satisfied. I know you have some good reason for not wanting to speak, but I am plaguey glad you spoke to me, for I should have been pretty well cast down if you hadn't, and to-morrow I have to go away.”
Annie leaned toward him. “Go away!”
“Yes; I have to go to California about that confounded Ames will case. And I don't know exactly where, on the Pacific coast, the parties I have to interview may be, and I may have to be away weeks, possibly months. Annie darling, it did seem to me a cruel state of things to have to go so far, and leave you here, living in such a queer fashion, and not know how you felt. Lord! but I'm glad you had sense enough to call me, Annie.”