Part 67 (1/2)
He stood by her for a few moments without speaking.
”You've broken your promise,” he presently remarked.
”Haven't you, too?” she asked, without looking up.
”No.”
”Sure?”
”I was so impatient to see you, I hung about in sight of your house, so that I could catch sight of you directly when you came out.”
”What about Melkbridge people?”
”What do I care!”
”What about me?”
He turned away with an angry gesture.
”What about me?” she repeated more insistently.
”You know what I said to you, asked you last night.”
Mavis hung her head.
”What did you tell Windebank in your letter?” she asked presently.
”Don't talk about him.”
”I shall if I want to. What did you say about me?”
”Shall I tell you?” he asked suddenly, as he sat beside her. ”I told him how wholesome and how sweet you were. That's what I said.”
”Ss.h.!.+”
”Do you know what I should have said?”
Mavis made a last effort to preserve her being from the thraldom of love. It was in her heart to leave Perigal there and then, but although the spirit was all but willing, the flesh was weak. As before in his presence, Mavis was rendered helpless by the odd fascination Perigal exercised.
”Do you know what I should have said?” he repeated.
Mavis essayed to speak; her tongue would not give speech.
”I'll tell you. I should have said that I love you, and that nothing in heaven or earth is going to stop my getting you.”
”I must go,” she said, without moving.
”When I love you so? Little Mavis, I love you, I love you, I love you!”