And now Richard, ignoring the presence of Marie-Louise, ignoring everything but the question which beat against his heart, demanded:
"If you knew that he had told me this, why didn't you make things clear?"
"When I might have made things clear—you were engaged to Eve."
She turned abruptly from him to Marie-Louise. "Run back to your poet, dear heart. He is waiting for the book that you were going to bring him. And remember that you are not to sit in judgment. You are to be eyes for him, and light."
It was a sober little nymph in green who marched away with her book. Geoffrey sat on the stone bench a little withdrawn from the others. His lean face, straining toward the house, relaxed as she came within his line of vision.
"You were a long time away," he said, and made a place for her beside him, and she sat down and opened her book.
And now, back in the dim library, Anne and Richard!
"I stayed," she said, "because they were speaking out there of Crossroads. I have had a letter, too, from Sulie. She says that the situation is desperate."
"Yes. They need me. And I ought to go. They are my people. I feel that in a sense I belong to them—as my grandfather belonged."