He had followed her like a dog; and as if he had been a dog her hand patted a place on the couch beside her. And because he was a fool and foredoomed he took it.
There was a silence. Then suddenly he made up his mind.
"Adeline, I'm very sorry, but I find I've got to go to-morrow."
"Go? Up to town?"
"Yes."
"But—you're coming back again."
"I'm—afraid—not."
"My dear John, you haven't been here a week. I thought you were going to stay with us till your leave was up."
"So did I. But I find I can't."
"Whyever not?"