Jude had reached the window, which was quite a low one, so that she was visible down to her waist. She let go the casement-stay and put her hand upon his, her moonlit face regarding him wistfully.
“Did it keep you awake?” he said.
“No—I was awake.”
“How was that?”
“Oh, you know—now! I know you, with your religious doctrines, think that a married woman in trouble of a kind like mine commits a mortal sin in making a man the confidant of it, as I did you. I wish I hadn’t, now!”
“Don’t wish it, dear,” he said. “That may have been my view; but my doctrines and I begin to part company.”
“I knew it—I knew it! And that’s why I vowed I wouldn’t disturb your belief. But—I am so glad to see you!—and, oh, I didn’t mean to see you again, now the last tie between us, Aunt Drusilla, is dead!”
Jude seized her hand and kissed it. “There is a stronger one left!” he said. “I’ll never care about my doctrines or my religion any more! Let them go! Let me help you, even if I do love you, and even if you…”
“Don’t say it!—I know what you mean; but I can’t admit so much as that. There! Guess what you like, but don’t press me to answer questions!”
“I wish you were happy, whatever I may be!”