Лето
XVII
ButI’llneverfeelanywaybutoneaboutyou;andifyousaysowe’lldrivedownintimetocatchthattrain,andgostraighttotheminister’shouse;andwhenyoucomebackhomeyou’llcomeasMrs.Royall.”
HisvoicehadthegravepersuasiveaccentthathadmovedhishearersattheHomeWeekfestival;shehadasenseofdepthsofmournfultoleranceunderthateasytone.Herwholebodybegantotremblewiththedreadofherownweakness.
“Oh,Ican’t——”sheburstoutdesperately.
“Can’twhat?”
Sheherselfdidnotknow:shewasnotsureifshewasrejectingwhatheoffered,oralreadystrugglingagainstthetemptationoftakingwhatshenolongerhadarightto.Shestoodup,shakingandbewildered,andbegantospeak:
“IknowIain’tbeenfairtoyoualways;butIwanttobenow....Iwantyoutoknow...Iwant...”Hervoicefailedherandshestopped.
Mr.Royallleanedagainstthewall.Hewaspalerthanusual,buthisfacewascomposedandkindlyandheragitationdidnotappeartoperturbhim.
“What’sallthisaboutwanting?”hesaidasshepaused.“Doyouknowwhatyoureallywant?I’lltellyou.Youwanttobetookhomeandtookcareof.AndIguessthat’sallthereistosay.”
“No...it’snotall....”
“Ain’tit?”Helookedathiswatch.“Well,I’lltellyouanotherthing.AllIwantistoknowifyou’llmarryme.Iftherewasanythingelse,I’dtellyouso;butthereain’t.Cometomyage,amanknowsthethingsthatmatterandthethingsthatdon’t;that’sabouttheonlygoodturnlifedoesus