And he went out. Montague, who stood like a statue, could hear him chuckling all the way down the hall.
At last Montague himself started to leave. But he heard Mrs. Winnie coming back, and he waited for her. She came in and shut the door, and turned toward him.
“What did he say?” she asked.
“He—was very pleasant,” said Montague.
And she smiled grimly. “I went out on purpose,” she said. “I wanted you to see him—to see what sort of a man he is, and how much ‘duty’ I owe him! You saw, I guess.”
“Yes, I saw,” said he.
Then again he started to go. But she took him by the arm. “Come and talk to me,” she said. “Please!”
And she led him back to the fire. “Listen,” she said. “He will not come here again. He is going away to-night—I thought he had gone already. And he does not return for a month or two. There will be no one to disturb us again.”
She came close to him and gazed up into his face. She had wiped her tears away, and her happy look had come back to her; she was lovelier than ever.
“I took you by surprise,” she said, smiling. “You didn’t know what to make of it. And I was ashamed—I thought you would hate me. But I’m not going to be unhappy any more—I don’t care at all. I’m glad that I spoke!”