Lastly came in Margaret herself.
Ralph hardly knew her. He had been unable to distinguish her at mass, and even now as she faced him in her black habit and white head-dress it was hard to be certain of her identity. But memory and sight were gradually reconciled; he remembered her delicate eyebrows and thin straight lips; and when she spoke he knew her voice.
They talked a minute or two about their home; but Ralph did not dare to say too much, considering what he had yet to say.
“I must ask you the questions,” he said at last, smiling at her.
She looked up at him nervously, and dropped her eyes once more.
She nodded or shook her head in silence at each enquiry, until at last one bearing upon the morals of the house came up; then she looked swiftly up once more, and Ralph saw that her grey eyes were terrified.
“You must tell me,” he said; and put the question again.
“I do not know what you mean,” she answered, staring at him bewildered.
Ralph went on immediately to the next.
At last he reached the crisis.