"To stay ...?"
"Yes—tonight. Can I stay? It must be late."
Hilary looked at his watch.
"Nearly three o'clock ... of course you must stay, you can't go out in the rain. You can lie down on the sofa here—or take my bed. You ought to sleep."
"No, no, I don't want to sleep.... But I mustn't keep you up all night. You go to bed, Hilary, and I'll stay here by the fire. Please."
"Well, after a while.... But Mrs. Lewis gets up early and I want to see her—I'll have to tell her you're here—"
Mary's face darkened. For an instant she had lost the feeling of what had happened, now it swept back upon her. The morning was coming—how was she to face it? Laurence would know of her absence, perhaps knew it now. He might go to her parents, he might come here to fetch her. She must decide something.
"Don't you think I ought to leave him?" she asked, looking at Hilary.
"I don't know. Do you mean—divorce him?" he replied with an effort.
"Divorce! No!" Mary exclaimed with a look of horror. "You don't believe in divorce!"