"It makes your way clear. That's why I have said it. There will be nothing now to keep you back from France."
Once upon a time she had said to Derry, "I can feel things, and I can make others feel." She had, perhaps, tonight, been a little cruel, but she had been cruel with a purpose.
All the way home Doctor McKenzie was very silent. When he kissed his daughter before she went upstairs, he held her close and smoothed her hair, but not a word did he say of the thing which had come to him.
He asked Emily, however, to wait a moment. "I have a letter to answer. I should like your advice."
Wondering a little, she sat down by the fire. The peacocky scarf gave out glittering lights of blue and green. She was tired and there were shadows under her eyes.
He came at once to his proposition. "I am thinking of going to France, Emily. If I do, can you stay with Jean?"
She turned her startled gaze upon him. "To France? Why?"
He told her. "They have been writing to me for weeks, and now the moment for my decision has come. I haven't said anything to Jean. But she won't keep me back. You know how she feels. But unless you can come, I can't leave her."
"I should have to be all day in my shop."
"I know, but you could be here in the evening and at night, and she could, of course, be with you in the shop, she likes that—and it would keep her from brooding. Or, if you will give up the shop, I should like to make it financially possible for you, Emily."