Mavis' heart sank.
"At last," he repeated. He looked as if he would say more, but he
did not speak. She wondered if he were moved at seeing her again.
Mavis, not knowing what to say, put out her hand, which he clasped.
"Aren't you glad to see me?" he asked.
"Of course."
"And you're not going to run away again?"
She looked at him inquiringly.
"I mean as you did before, into the fog!"
"There's no fog to run into," she remarked feebly.
"Little Mavis! Little Mavis! I'd no idea you could look so well and
wonderful as you do."
"Hadn't we better walk? People are staring at us already."
"I can't see you so well walking," he complained.
They strolled along; as they walked, Windebank half turned, so that
his eyes never left her face.
"What a beautiful girl you are!" he said.
"You mustn't say that."
"But it's true. And to think of you working for that outsider
Devitt!"
"He means well. And I've been very happy there."
"You won't be there much longer! Do you know why?"
"Tell me about yourself," she said evasively, as she wondered if
talking to Windebank were unfair to Perigal.
"Do you remember this?" he asked, as he brought out a crumpled
letter for her inspection.
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