“I can’t stay away any longer,” said Eirene.
“It’s awfully hard that you should just get this one glimpse of us, like a condemned man saying good-bye to his friends, and then go away for ever,” said Zoe.
“Why should she go away at all?” said Maurice suddenly. “Zoe, give us two minutes more. And just tell Wylie, will you? Eirene,” as Zoe vanished, “do you want to go back?”
“I must,” she said, smiling at him bravely.
“Can you bear to go back? I can’t bear you to go.”
“But I must,” she murmured, trying to draw away her hand.
“Oh no, you needn’t, if—Eirene, I know it will sound frightful cheek to you, but I must say it—if you would marry me.”
“You are sorry for me,” she said quickly, “because you know I am no longer the heir.”
“I never thought of it. I am sorry for you, but only because it’s so rough on you to give you the alternative of taking me or going back to a life you dread.”
