Part 114 (1/2)
Soon she was torn by two emotions: hatred of the Devitts and awakened interest in Windebank; she did not know which influenced her the more.
She all but made up her mind to write some sort of a reply to Windebank, when she met Harold pulling himself along the road towards the sea.
He had changed in the fortnight that had elapsed since she had last seen him; his face had lost flesh; he looked worn and anxious.
When he saw her, he pulled up. She gave him a formal bow, and was about to pa.s.s him, when the hurt expression on the invalid's face caused her to stop irresolutely by his side.
”At last!” he said.
Mavis looked at him inquiringly.
”I could bear it no longer,” he went on.
”Bear what?”
He did not reply; indeed, he did not appear to listen to her words, but said:
”I feared you'd gone for good.”
”I've seen nothing of you either.”
”Then you missed me? Tell me that you did.”
”I don't know.”
”I have missed YOU.”
”Indeed!”
”I daren't say how much. Where are you going now?”
”Nowhere.”
”May I come too?” he asked pleadingly. ”I'll go a little way,” she remarked.
”Meet me by the sea in ten minutes.”
”Why not go there together?”
”I'd far rather meet you.”
”Don't you like being seen with me?”
”Yes and no. Yes, because I am very proud at being seen with you.”
”And 'no'?”
”It's why I wanted you to meet me by the sea.”
”Why?”