“There is nothing to prevent you, poor Alexis,” she replied gently.
He hung his head and the light suddenly went out of his face.
“You are offended with me? I don’t blame you——” his voice was low and broken. “I suppose this is good-bye?”
A new pain bit into Anne’s heart.
“Oh no, Alexis, no! How can you say so?” she broke in contritely. “If you don’t feel you can go back to the others”—she hesitated uncertainly for a moment, “you may remain here with me. I have taken the lodge until the first of November. There still remain almost ten days. Do you think you could bear it?”
She looked at him less frankly. Her flush and the new uncertainty of her voice enraptured Alexis.
“Anne, Anne,” he cried impetuously, calling her by her name for the first time. “Why, being with you is the only happiness I have ever had! It was the terrible fear of losing it that has upset me so tonight.”
His face was radiant. In another moment, Anne feared he might become demonstrative. With a slight flutter of regret and excitement, she rose and ran to the piano.
“I insist upon playing!” She ran her fingers over the keys lightly, avoiding his tortured expression. “I’ve restrained myself for ten days on your account, and now that it is decided you are remaining, I refuse to go without my piano any longer! Besides, I simply must drown out this wind if I can. It is getting on my nerves!”
Too astonished to remonstrate, slightly sick at his stomach, Alexis fell into the nearest chair and steeled himself to listen. From the corner of her eye, Anne admired his unexpected control. Nothing in his polite attitude betrayed the nervous torture she knew he was undergoing. But she chose to ignore it.