She went red and looked troubled of a sudden, drooping her black lashes, and beating her hands together softly as though measuring out the rhythm of her thoughts. There was a wistfulness about her mouth that begot in Jeffray a great yearning to comfort her.
“Bess,” he said.
She lifted her chin and looked at him, the light welling up again into her eyes.
“If Dan is for being a brute to you—”
“Yes?”
“Come to me at Rodenham. We can give you a home there—until—we see further into the future.”
Richard had almost spoken of his marriage, but had strangled the confession before it had been uttered. Bess was looking at him steadily with much forethought in her eyes. Richard’s chivalry did not wholly convince her; some self-conscious and intangible difficulty appeared to be hampering his mind.
“I thank you, Mr. Jeffray,” she said, slowly, “but—”
“Well?”
“You would be ashamed of me in your great house.”