SHE had left them to each other. It was eight o'clock. She had crept back again to the bed that was her refuge, where she had lain for the last hour, weeping to exhaustion. She had raised herself at the touch of a hand on her hot forehead. Jane was standing beside her.
"Kitty," she said, "will you see Robert for a moment? He's waiting for you downstairs, in your room."
Kitty dropped back again on her pillow with her arm over her face, warding off Jane's gaze.
"No," she said, "I can't see him. I can't go through that again."
"But, Kitty, there's something he wants to say to you."
"There's nothing he can say. Nothing—nothing. Tell him I'm going away."
"You mustn't go without seeing him."
"I must. It's the only way."
"For you—yes. How about him?"
Kitty sighed. She stirred irresolutely on her pillow.