She remarked after a pause:
"I was not very far from you."
"Apparently you were not near enough for me."
"You could have called if you wanted me," she said. "And I wasn't so
long doing my hair."
"Apparently it was too long for me."
"Well, you were thinking of me, anyhow. I am glad of it. Do you know,
it seems to me, somehow, that if you were to stop thinking of me I
shouldn't be in the world at all!"
He turned round and looked at her. She often said things which surprised
him. A vague smile faded away on her lips before his scrutiny.
"What is it?" he asked. "It is a reproach?"
"A reproach! Why, how could it be?" she defended herself.
"Well, what did it mean?" he insisted.
"What I said--just what I said. Why aren't you fair?"
"Ah, this is at least a reproach!"
She coloured to the roots of her hair.
"It looks as if you were trying to make out that I am disagreeable," she
murmured. "Am I? You will make me afraid to open my mouth presently. I
shall end by believing I am no good."
Her head drooped a little. He looked at her smooth, low brow, the
faintly coloured checks, and the red lips parted slightly, with the
gleam of her teeth within.
"And then I won't be any good," she added with conviction. "That I
won't! I can only be what you think I am."
He made a slight movement. She put her hand on his arm, without raising
her head, and went on, her voice animated in the stillness of her body:
"It is so.
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