Лето
VIII
“I’msosorryit’sgood-bye:IsupposeyouknowI’mleaving,”hebegan,abruptlyandawkwardly;sheguessedthathewaswonderinghowmuchsheknewofhisreasonsforgoing.
“Ipresumeyoufoundyourworkwasoverquickerthanwhatyouexpected,”shesaid.
“Well,yes—thatis,no:thereareplentyofthingsIshouldhavelikedtodo.Butmyholiday’slimited;andnowthatMr.Royallneedsthehorseforhimselfit’sratherdifficulttofindmeansofgettingabout.”
“Thereain’tanytoomanyteamsforhirearoundhere,”sheacquiesced;andtherewasanothersilence.
“Thesedaysherehavebeen—awfullypleasant:Iwantedtothankyouformakingthemso,”hecontinued,hiscolourrising.
Shecouldnotthinkofanyreply,andhewenton:“You’vebeenwonderfullykindtome,andIwantedtotellyou....IwishIcouldthinkofyouashappier,lesslonely....Thingsaresuretochangeforyoubyandby....”
“Thingsdon’tchangeatNorthDormer:peoplejustgetusedtothem.”
Theanswerseemedtobreakuptheorderofhisprearrangedconsolations,andhesatlookingatheruncertainly.Thenhesaid,withhissweetsmile:“That’snottrueofyou.Itcan’tbe.”
Thesmilewaslikeaknife-thrustthroughherheart:everythinginherbegantotrembleandbreakloose.Shefelthertearsrunover,andstoodup.
“Well,good-bye,”shesaid.
Shewasawareofhistakingherhand,andoffeelingthathistouchwaslifeless.
“Good-bye.”Heturnedaway,andstoppedonthethreshold
