I started so suddenly that my chair creaked, and I almost wondered if
they would hear. But no ... the sound was drowned in a tiny murmur that
swelled like a tide through the whole garden--as if the trees and the
bushes and the tall hollyhocks were all stooping to listen to the
answer.
It came.
"June, I've told you I must. It's a good post, June--I can't afford to
let it go. It wouldn't be fair to your father."
"_He_ wouldn't trouble. I'm sure he wouldn't."
"_I_ should, though. I've got from Taplow a full account of all I've
cost while I've been here, and when I'm earning money I shall pay back
every penny of it. It's only fair."
"_Fair_? Terry, how can you _think_ it's fair, when the money that's
such a lot to you is so little to him? It's absurd--he'd laugh at it."
"It doesn't matter. I can't live at his expense any longer, now there's
a job been offered me."
"And you want the job?"
"Yes ... I want ... my work."
Another pause, and then, out of the velvet silence: "Terry.... _Don't
go_...."
"June! ... _June_! ... _What_ do you mean?"
Was it an echo to him out of the past--the past that, so he had said,
was just a blank that nobody remembered?
Footsteps crunched along the gravel; the latch of the side-gate was
lifted up; they had gone out again into the pale, starlit lane....