She had nothing now to carry; she clasped her hands, and looked straight in front of her down the rainy street.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you had written to me?”
“I thought you had had the letter, and would rather not answer it.”
“Why did you write at all?”
“To explain my mistake,” said Embrance, confusedly.
“Then you did make a mistake, and I was the sufferer?”
With a flash, her dark eyes turned to his. The look of joy on his face brought peace and comfort to her.
“I am sorry,” she began.
“Are you?” he asked, tenderly. “Don’t be sorry on my account. If I had come to see you at once, would you have sent me away a second time, Embrance?”
They had passed number 25, and were walking towards the City, unmindful of the rain. In their hearts was the brightest sunshine.