Agatha sighed.
“What difference could it make to you—five minutes?”
“You don’t understand,” said Agatha.
“I do. I don’t ask you to see him, or to bother with him; only to go on as you were doing.”
“You don’t understand. It isn’t possible to explain it. I can’t go on.”
“I see. You’re tired, Aggy. Well—not now, not to-day. But later, when you’re rested, won’t you?”
“Oh, Milly, dear Milly, if I could—”
“You can. You will. I know you will—”
“No. You must understand it. Never again. Never again.”
“Never?”