She clung to him suddenly, in a passion of relief.
"Oh, I never could give you up, I never would unless you yourself told me to. Then I would do it,—for you. But you won't ask me, now?"
He put his arm around her shoulders, and the strength of it seemed to calm her.
"No, dear. I would make the sacrifice, ask you to make it, if it would be of any good. As you say, he does not understand. And you couldn't go on living with him and loving me. That solution is impossible. We can only hope that the time will come when he will realize his need of you, and send for you."
"And did he not ask you anything more?"
Hodder hesitated. He had intended to spare her that . . . . Her divination startled him.
"I know, I know without your telling me. He offered you money, he consented to our—marriage if you would give up St. John's. Oh, how could he," she cried. "How could he so misjudge and insult you!"
"It is not me he misjudges, Alison, it is mankind, it is God. That is his terrible misfortune." Hodder released her tenderly. "You must see him—you must tell him that when he needs you, you will come."
"I will see him now, she said. You will wait for, me?"
"Now?" he repeated, taken aback by her resolution, though it was characteristic.