“Why not?” said Elizabeth quietly. The quietness hid the greatest effort of her life. “If you want me, I will come. I only want to help you, and if I can help you best that way——”
David let himself sink into a chair, and began to talk a little of plans, wearily and with an effort. He had to force his brain to make it work at all. All these details, these plans, these conventions seemed to him irrelevant and burdensome.
He got up to go as the clock struck seven.
Elizabeth put out her hand to him as she had always done.
“And you will let me help you?”
“No, not yet—not till afterwards,” he said.
“It makes no difference, David, you know. It is just what I would do for any one who wanted it——”
He shook his head. There was a reaction upon him, a withdrawal.
“Not yet—not till afterwards. I’ll give old Byng’s stuff a chance,” he said obstinately, and then went out with just a bare good-night.