“Yes, it is hard—but it is the natural course of events, and I am sure Mrs Trevor realises that Miles is one of the best sons that it is possible for a woman to have. He doesn’t love you any the less because he feels the need of getting back to his work. A man must work if he has any trouble weighing upon him; it is the only safe way of letting off steam. Fortunately there is plenty for him to do, and the chances are good for a speedy return.”
He paused, and Betty turned her head aside, and gazed over the darkening sea.
“And—you?” she asked softly. “Will you go too?”
“That depends.”
“On business?”
“Partly. If things go on as well as they have started, the company will be floated in another month, and I shall be of more use at the other end than here. I have made no plans, however. There are other considerations which come even before business.”
He paused again, as if waiting to be questioned, but Betty did not speak. The gentle break of the water was the only sound which broke the silence. Afar off she could just distinguish the dark, retreating figures of Miles and Jill. She stared at them, at the sea, the sky, anywhere except at that pale, eager face which was watching her so intently.
“Betty,” breathed a low voice by her side, “you know what I mean! You know that my going or staying depends upon yourself—that the happiness of my life is in your hands! Are you going to be kind to me, Betty? Will you let me love you?”
She drew herself away from him with a cry of protest, almost startling in its suddenness.
“Oh no, no! I cannot—I must not listen! It is quite impossible. Please don’t say any more. I cannot listen to you!”