not, already occupied as she was with what she had
on her own side to say to him. This was really what
had made her wait what superseded the small
remainder of her resentment at his constant practical
impertinence; the result of all of which was that,
within a minute, she had brought it out. " Yes
even now I'm willing to go with you. I don't know
what you may have wished to say to me, and even
if you hadn't written you would within a day or
two have heard from me. Things have happened,
and I ve only waited, for seeing you, till I should be
quite sure. I am quite sure. I ll go with you."

It produced an effect. " Go with me where?"

"Anywhere. I ll stay with you. Even here."
She had taken off her gloves and, as if she had
arrived with her plan, she sat down.

Lionel Croy hung about in his disengaged way
hovered there as if, in consequence of her words,
looking for a pretext to back out easily: on which
she immediately saw she had discounted, as it
might be called, what he had himself been prepar
ing. He wished her not to come to him, still less to
settle with him, and had sent for her to give her
up with some style and state; a part of the beauty
of which, however, was to have been his sacrifice
to her own detachment. There was no style, no
state, unless she wished to forsake him. His idea
had accordingly been to surrender her to her wish
with all nobleness; it had by no means been to have
positively to keep her off. She cared, however, not

[[11]]

p010 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p011w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p012

v?