I laughed uneasily.

“So you are a fisherman as well as a romantic theorist!” I said, rather

rudely. “How I wish I were as versatile! Come, Margot, we must be going

now. The carriage ought to be here.”

She rose quietly and bade the Professor good-night; but as she glanced

up at me, in rising, I fancied I caught a new expression in her eyes.

A ray of determination, of set purpose, mingled with the gloomy fire of

their despair.

As soon as we were in the carriage I spoke, with a strained effort at

ease and the haphazard tone which should mask furtive cross-examination.

“Professor Black is an interesting man,” I said.

“Do you think so?” she answered from her dark corner.

“Surely. His intellect is really alive. Yet, with all his scientific

knowledge and his power of eliciting facts and elucidating them, he is

but a feather headed man.” I paused, but she made no answer. “Do you not

think so?”

“How can I tell?” she replied. “We only talked about fishing. He managed

to make that topic a pleasant one.”

Her tone was frank. I felt relieved.

“He is exceedingly clever,” I said, heartily, and we relapsed into

silence.

When we reached home, and Margot had removed her cloak, she came up to

me and laid her hand on my arm.

So unaccustomed was her touch now that I was startled. She was looking

at me with a curious, steady smile--an unwavering smile that chilled

instead of warming me.

“Ronald,” she said, “there has been a breach between us. I have been the

cause of it. I should like to--to heal it. Do you still love me as you

did?”

I did not answer immediately; I could not. Her voice, schooled as it

was, seemed somehow at issue with the words she uttered. There was a

desperate, hard note in it that accorded with that enigmatic smile of

the mouth.

It roused a cold suspicion within me that I was close to a masked

battery. I shrank physically from the touch of her hand.

She waited with her eyes upon me. Our faces were lit tremblingly by the

flames of the two candles we held.

At last I found a voice.

“Can you doubt it?” I asked.

She drew a step nearer.

“Then let us resume our old relations,” she said.

“Our old relations?”

“Yes.”

The Return Of The Soul 1896 · 第 14 / 25 题