"Of course you didn't mean that, William?" she said, at last.
Ashe turned.
"I should not have said it unless I had meant every word of it. It is, of course, the only thing to be done."
Kitty looked at him miserably. "But you can't mean that—that you'll resign because of that book?"
She pulled it towards her and turned over the pages with a hand that trembled. "That would be too foolish!"
Ashe made no reply. He was standing before the fire, with his hands in his pockets, and a face half absent, half ironical, as though his mind followed the sequences of a far distant future.
"William!" She caught the sleeve of his coat with a little cry. "I wrote that book because I thought it would help you."
His attention came back to her.
"Yes, Kitty, I believe you did."
She gulped down a sob. His tone was so odd, so remote.