Лето
XVIII
Inthebedroom,whileshewasthrustingbackintothesatchelthefewthingsshehadbroughtawaywithher,shesuddenlyfeltthathiseyeswereonherandthathewasgoingtospeak.Shestoodstill,herhalf-foldednight-gowninherhand,whilethebloodrusheduptoherdrawncheeks.
“Well,didyourigyourselfouthandsomely?Ihaven’tseenanybundlesround,”hesaidjocosely.
“Oh,I’dratherletAllyHawesmakethefewthingsIwant,”sheanswered.
“Thatso?”Helookedatherthoughtfullyforamomentandhiseye-browsprojectedinascowl.Thenhisfacegrewfriendlyagain.“Well,Iwantedyoutogobacklookingstylisherthananyofthem;butIguessyou’reright.You’reagoodgirl,Charity.”
Theireyesmet,andsomethingroseinhisthatshehadneverseenthere:alookthatmadeherfeelashamedandyetsecure.
“Iguessyou’regood,too,”shesaid,shylyandquickly.Hesmiledwithoutanswering,andtheywentoutoftheroomtogetheranddroppeddowntothehallintheglitteringlift.
Latethatevening,inthecoldautumnmoonlight,theydroveuptothedooroftheredhouse.
