She put her two hands in his with a gesture of a Siddons.
"Anywhere!"
He retained his doubts, but he did not discuss. Finally he said:
"Very well! To-morrow afternoon I will come and tell you my decision! You are right. This must end, one way or the other!"
"When?"
"At five o'clock!"
"At five, then. If not—"
"If not, what?"
"I shall have made another decision!"
They said little during the remainder of the trip back, the gravity of the crisis that had been imposed affecting them both. She had only faint belief that he would come, as she wished him to come; and her eyes resting on the sudden electric paraphernalia of the theaters, the gilded outward trappings, the billboards, and the displays on the sidewalk, she lost herself in reveries, feeling the mountain of drudgery she would have to move. Besides, another thing obtruded itself between them—the lie, slight as it had been, that she had told. She was vaguely aware of it, unable to return into the intimacy of her first clinging attitude. Arrived at the house, he mounted the steps with her, and said gravely: