“Mr. Nevern has asked me to be his wife,” she said, desperately.
“Poor devil!” was Robert’s comment on the information.
There was another silence.
“Robert!” she implored, still in a whisper, dragging herself closer to him. “Won’t you let me explain?”
He retreated a step.
“My dear Philippa,” he returned, with a laugh, “why explain the obvious? It is all quite simple. I am a fool, and you are—a woman.” He glanced at the clock. “It’s one o’clock. Don’t let me keep you. Good-bye.” The quiet finality of his tone overwhelmed her. She turned at once to go.
“One moment,” he said. “Your letter.” He folded it with precision, replaced it in its envelope, and handed it to her politely.
Philippa took it silently, opened the door, and went out without a backward glance.
CHAPTER XX
CECILY and Mrs. Summers had arrived at the coffee stage of lunch. They were alone, Robert having left a message that he was going out.