Dulcie sat, looking up in Desmond’s face.
‘She’s the light of his eyes,’ whispered Rosie to her sweetheart. ‘See how she looks at him.’
‘Ah!’ said Larry, ‘when will ye be afther lookin’ at me like that?’
‘When your desarts are ayqual to your impudence!
She curtsied, and drew Larry from the room after the others. The Widow Daly followed, dropping an ecstatic curtsey before she disappeared.
There was a long pause. Desmond sat looking sadly at the fire.
‘Desmond!’
‘Yes, Lady Dulcie.’
‘Dulcie to you, now and always,’ she said, taking his hand.
‘Don’t, don’t!’ said the lad. ‘I can’t bear it. I’d rather you let me drift away from you like a leaf on the running water. I can bear all the rest, but not your pity.’