She must needs speak to him now. “Do you wish me to go?”
He answered shortly. “It will be better. Yes, you had better go.”
“Very well—I will. But to-morrow? Am I to go home to-morrow? I shall do exactly what you tell me. You know that.”
He did not move, nor answer her immediately. She hung upon his silence.
Then he said, “I’m a man, you know—and you’re a woman. There’s no getting away from that.”
“And you wish me——?”
“I’m a compromise—by my own act. This is Halfway House. You may rest here, you see—and go on—or go back.”
She could school her voice, but not her hand which touched his shoulder. She had to move it away before she spoke. “And if I decide—to go on?”
“You must not—until you know what it means. Some day—possibly—when you see—not feel—your way, it may be— Look here,” he said abruptly, “we won’t talk about all this. I told you—in cold blood—what I thought you ought to do. Go back and see Duplessis. Don’t ask me to reconsider that—in hot blood. I’m not myself at this time of night. I saw straight enough when you put it to me. I value your friendship—I’m proud of it. More I must not say. It is something to have made a woman like you trust me. That’s too good a thing to lose, do you see? And I’ll tell you this, too—that you may trust me. If you do as I tell you, it will work out all right.”
“Yes, yes—I believe that. But you told me this morning to follow—my heart.”