She was doing some mending, and only glanced up and down again without ceasing or moving, as Ralph stood by her.
“I thought you never used the needle,” he began in a moment.
“It is never too late to mend,” she said, without the faintest movement.
Ralph felt again an odd prick of happiness. It gave him a distinct thrill of delight that she would make such an answer and so swiftly; and at such a time, when tragedy was round her and in her heart, for he knew how much she loved the man from whom he had just come.
He sat down on the garden chair opposite, and watched her fingers and the movements of her wrist as she passed the needle in and out, and neither spoke again till the others had dispersed.
“You heard all I said?” said Ralph at last.
She bowed her head without answering.
“Shall I go and bring you news again presently?”
“If you please,” she said.
“I hope to be able to do some little things for him,” went on Ralph, dropping his eyes, and he was conscious that she momentarily looked up.