XXXIII

           OwenLeathdidnotgobackwithhisstep-mothertoGivre.InreplytohersuggestionheannouncedhisintentionofstayingonadayortwolongerinParis.

           Annaleftalonebythefirsttrainthenextmorning.Darrowwastofollowintheafternoon.WhenOwenhadleftthemtheeveningbefore,Darrowwaitedamomentforhertospeak;then,asshesaidnothing,heaskedherifshereallywishedhimtoreturntoGivre.Shemadeamutesignofassent,andheadded:“Foryouknowthat,muchasI’mreadytodoforOwen,Ican’tdothatforhim—Ican’tgobacktobesentawayagain.”

           “No—no!”

           Hecamenearer,andlookedather,andshewenttohim.Allherfearsseemedtofallfromherasheheldher.Itwasadifferentfeelingfromanyshehadknownbefore:confusedandturbid,asifsecretshamesandrancoursstirredinit,yetricher,deeper,moreenslaving.Sheleanedherheadbackandshuthereyesbeneathhiskisses.Sheknewnowthatshecouldnevergivehimup.

           Neverthelesssheaskedhim,thenextmorning,tolethergobackalonetoGivre.Shewantedtimetothink.Shewasconvincedthatwhathadhappenedwasinevitable,thatsheandDarrowbelongedtoeachother,andthathewasrightinsayingnopastfollycouldeverputthemasunder.Iftherewasashadeofdifferenceinherfeelingforhimitwasthatofanaddedintensity.Shefeltrestless,insecureoutofhissight:shehadasenseofincompleteness,ofpassionatedependence,thatwassomehowatvariancewithherownconceptionofhercharacter.

           Itwaspartlytheconsciousnessofthischangeinherselfthatmadeherwanttobealone.