“You don’t understand,” he said.
“Oh, no,” she sighed, “we never do, we women. We pray not to sometimes; pray to be kept blind, dull, doting.” She laughed abruptly. “Well, I wish you’d said you loved me then, Jim; even though I might have hugged you. Couldn’t you say it now?”
“It’s not lawful.”
“Oh, no,” she sighed again, but reminiscently, “it’s not lawful; but it would be kinder and better than many things that are. Besides, you might rise in my esteem.”
“Thanks,” he said, smiling, pushing himself erect. “I think I’ll stay as I am. I’m high enough now to feel dizzy sometimes when you commend me. The question is, where are you going to stay?”
“To-night at the Grand; my things are there. To-morrow I shall be across the Channel.”
She swung her chair round toward the room.
“Am I going alone?”
“No,” he said, decidedly. “I want you to wait a day.”
“With you?”