"No matter how much he may reproach me, I will not answer," thought the unhappy woman. "Anything Philip could say to me would not hurt me now."
So beyond a few formal words no speech was exchanged between the two, and shortly after Bramwell came back Philip went away.
"May I stay in this room? This is your room, I know," said Kate meekly, when they were alone. "I do not wish to intrude. I know you have writing to do, and that I may be in the way."
There was no tone of bitterness or complaint in her voice. She simply wanted to know what his wishes were.
"While you were out," he said, "I arranged the room I had intended to be a play-room for the boy as my own. Yours will be the one you used last night, and this will be common to all of us. I shall shift my books into my own room and write there."
"And the boy?" said she, with a tremble in her hoarse, dull voice. "Which room will be the boy's?"
"Yours, of course."
She moved towards him as if to catch his hand in gratitude. He stood still, and made no responsive sign.
"When I came here two years ago," he said quietly, "I changed my name from Mellor to Bramwell. I shall retain the name of Bramwell, and you will take it."
He did not request her to do it or command her to do it. He told her she would do it.