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

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