‘Come in!’
Nora appeared. She had had her storm of weeping in private and got over it. She was now quite composed, but the depression, the humiliation even, expressed in her whole bearing dismayed Connie afresh.
Nora took a seat on the other side of the fire. Connie eyed her uneasily.
‘Are you ever going to forgive me, Nora?’ she said, at last.
Nora shrugged her shoulders.
‘You couldn’t help it. I see that.’
‘Thank you,’ said Connie meekly.
‘But what I can’t forgive is that you never said a word⸺’
—‘To you? That you might undo it all? Nora, you really are an absurd person!’ Connie sprang up, and came to kneel by the fire, so that she might attack her cousin at close quarters. ‘We’re told it’s “more blessed to give than to receive.” Not when you’re on the premises, Nora! I really don’t think you need make me feel such an outcast! I say—how many nights have you been awake lately?’
Nora’s lip quivered a little.