Morosine reflected in silence. Then he said, “Yes, I agree with you. I recommend you to follow your determination.”
Her eyes looked blankly at him; for the first moment he thought her disappointed, but he corrected his impression in the second.
“I'm glad you agree with me,” she said. “I should have been disappointed if you hadn't.”
He smiled. “You are stronger than you think. You can suffice to yourself. But I hope that I shall never disappoint you.”
“I have no fear of that,” she said, young again and confident. She thanked the Immortal Three with her eyes, and turning to Morosine, asked him, “Shall we go?” They went together. Passing the Demeter of Cnidos, her swinging hand touched his. He held his breath. Her face, sharply in profile, was as pure and pale as a silver coin. Her breast held her secret. To her own heart she voiced the cry, “Have I done well, dear one? Have I done well? Do you approve of me? Do you?” It may be that Senhouse heard her in his Wiltshire hills.
XI
Nevile Ingram was capable of fine ideas, we have seen, and could sometimes carry them out. He had had a moment of generosity, with Sanchia's letter in his hand, and held in the main to his expressed intentions. When he went to see her, at the end of three rigorous days, he behaved like a gentleman. She entered the room where he awaited her, pale for his embrace: he came to meet her, put his hand upon her shoulder, and, stooping, kissed her lightly. “My dear,” he said, “I'll deserve you yet;” and he really meant it. She was touched, and quite kind to him. He exhibited his version of her surrender.
“We're friends, eh? We know each other of old, have no surprises, and can take raptures for granted. That's your notion, I fancy? It's not mine, but I'll be thankful for what you give me, and it shall be my fault if you find me backward when you're ready. Bygones are bygones, then? We make a new start?”