“I wish to God you loved me,” he said, in a low, passionate voice.
She raised her face and looked at him steadily.
“I wish to God I did,” she answered, very slowly.
He made a sudden movement towards her and checked himself.
“Could you——?... No! That isn’t what I’ve got to say.” He passed his hand over his face and went on, doggedly, “Cis, I’m going away.”
Cecily started.
“That’s why I came early,” he went on, in the same unemotional tone. “I hoped to find you alone.... I must go, Cis. For a long time I’ve known it, but I’ve kept it at the back of my mind and wouldn’t look. And now, at last, Mrs. Summers has made me drag it out, and so——” He finished the sentence with a gesture.
“Rose?” repeated Cecily, vaguely.
“She’s quite right,” he said. “It’s not fair to you——” She made a protesting movement, but he intercepted it and drew himself up. “It’s not fair to me to stay,” he added, firmly.
Her hand dropped at her side. “Not fair to you?” she echoed, as if a new light had broken. “No; it isn’t—it isn’t.” She moved to the sofa and let herself drop against the cushions as though exhausted. “I’ve been selfish, Dick,” she went on, still in the same dazed voice. “I’ve been so thankful for your help. So glad of you—you can’t think how glad. And all the time I never realized what it must have meant to you.” She put up her hand to her head with a touchingly childish gesture. “I’ve been horribly selfish.”