But she drew back. "Go--go there till to-morrow! To-morrow afternoon I
will see you; and if you love me after that--"
"Yes?"
She turned away and pressed the bell. "Good-bye," she said. Her voice
sounded strange to him.
He came nearer, and touched her hand; but she drew it away.
"You may kiss me," she said.
"Eve!"
"After to-morrow."
The footman came in answer to the bell. Mrs Glinn did not turn round. "I
only rang for you to open the door for Sir Hugh," she said. "Good-bye
then, Sir Hugh. Come at five."
"I will," he answered, wondering.
When he had gone, Mrs Glinn sat down in a chair and took up a French
novel. It was by Gyp. She tried to read it, with tears running over her
cheeks. But at last she laid it down.
"After to-morrow," she murmured. "Ah, why--why does a woman ever love
twice?" And then she sobbed.
But the canary sang, and the motes danced merrily in the sunbeams. And
on the table where she had put it down lay "_Le Mariage de Chiffon_."