Evie's manner changed with almost electrical suddenness. She thrust her hands into her lap, straightened her back, and spoke almost victoriously.
"There! I knew! I told her so!" she triumphed. "'Miriam,' I said, 'you're quite wrong in thinking that—that——'"
"In thinking there's something to be ashamed of in an old engagement you've changed your mind about?" I suggested gently.
"Yes!" she exulted. "I said to her, 'Jeff wouldn't in the least mind my going to see her if I wanted'—and you wouldn't, would you, Jeff?"
"No," I said quickly. I said it quickly lest I should not say it at all. Then I qualified. "No.... One shrinks from pain, that's all, either enduring it or giving it."
"Giving Kitty pain?"
"Well, does Miss Levey think it would be pleasant to her—or is she merely willing to hurt her if she can hurt me too?"
"But—but—Miriam says she would really be awfully pleased—Kitty would—and I'm sure you're wrong, Jeff, about things like that lasting for years and years! They don't. I——" She checked herself.
But whether it was the check or what not that made the difference, all at once she started forward from the bureau and sank on her knees at my side. She herself put one of my hands about her waist, as if to compel it to a caress, and stroked her cheek against the other. The words she murmured were disjointed enough, but her tone was, oh, so eloquent....
"Dear, dear!" she besought me. "Miriam was wrong, wasn't she? Not that I care in the very least, only I've been, oh, so wretched, thinking there was something between us! I don't want to see her—Miriam—nor Kitty—very much—but it was so lonely—till Jack came—and there isn't anything now, is there, Jeff? I know there has been—but it's gone now, hasn't it?... Great strong hand!" She moistened it with her breathing.... "But it is all right now, isn't it, Jeff?"