She stood, leaning against the wall, not looking at anything but the floor—and not seeing that;—as still as if she had not heard him. Thinking—what was she thinking?—Then suddenly stood up and answered.
'I can but obey. May I ask you to wait five minutes?—Stand away, Prim, and let me pass.'
But he stayed her.
'It is better not to set people's tongues at work. I have sent a message to the Miss Powders, to the effect that Miss Kennedy had been suddenly summoned home, and making your excuses. As from yourself. No name but yours appeared.'
If there was any one thing he had done which tried her almost unbearably, it was that! There was a sort of quiet despair in the way she turned from him and the door together, and took the chair she had refused, and sat waiting. Rollo brought her silently a cup of coffee and a plate with something to eat, but both were refused.
'Are you ready, Prim?'
Primrose nervously put on her bonnet, which she had with nervous unrest taken off; and Rollo offered his arm to Wych Hazel.
'Let me go by myself,' she said—again not roughly, but as if she could not help it. 'I am not going to run away.'
'In that case it is certainly not the arm of a jailor,' said he, stooping down by her and smiling.
But the words, or the look, or something about them, very nearly got the better of Wych Hazel's defences, and her eyes flushed with tears.