"I know—I ask for nothing!"
(Nothing! Oh, damnable lover's lie! Do the Cairys ever content themselves with nothings?)
"I will do as you say—in all things. We will forget this talk, or I will not go back to the Farm; but I am glad we understand!"
"No, no," she said quickly. "You must come to the Farm! It must be just as it has been." She knew as she said the words that it could never be "as it had been." She liked to close her eyes now to the dark future; but after to-day, after this new sense of tenderness and love, the old complexion of life must be different.
Cairy still held her hand. As she looked up with misty eyes, very happy and very miserable, a little figure came into the empty room followed by the waiter, and glanced aimlessly about for a table.
"Vick!" Isabelle cried in astonishment. "Where did you come from?"
Vickers had a music score under his arm, and he tapped it as he stood above them at the end of their table.
"I've been trying over some things with Lester at his rooms, and came in for a bite. I thought you were going to the theatre, Belle?"
"We are!" Cairy exclaimed, looking at his watch. "We'll about get the last act!"
Vickers fingered his roll and did not look at Isabelle. Suddenly she cried:—