“No.”
“She's just the same to you? You must tell me, Wallace. I've been building so much.”
She realized the change in him then more fully than ever for he faced her squarely and without evasion.
“There's no change in her, mother, but I think you and I will both have to get used to this: she's not in love with me. She doesn't pretend to be.”
“Don't tell me it's still that man!”
“I don't know.” He took a turn or two about the terrace. “I don't think it is, mother. I don't think she cares for anybody, that way, certainly not for me. And that's the trouble.” He faced her again. “If marrying me isn't going to make her happy, I won't hold her to it. You'll have to support me in that, mother. I'm a pretty weak sister sometimes.”
That appeal touched her as nothing had done for a long time. “I'll help all I can, if the need comes,” she said, and turned and went heavily into the house.
XLVII
David was satisfied. The great love of his life had been given to Dick, and now Dick was his again. He grieved for Lucy, but he knew that the parting was not for long, and that from whatever high place she looked down she would know that. He was satisfied. He looked on his work and found it good. There was no trace of weakness nor of vacillation in the man who sat across from him at the table, or slammed in and out of the house after his old fashion.