"Oh, Coral—it's not decided?"
She scrutinized him for a last penetrating moment; then she looked away. "I'm never long deciding."
He hesitated, choking with contradictory impulses, and afraid to formulate any, lest they should either mislead or pain her.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he questioned lamely; and instantly perceived his blunder.
She sat down, and looked up at him under brooding lashes—had he ever noticed the thickness of her lashes before?
"Would it have made any difference if I had told you?"
"Any difference—?"
"Sit down by me," she commanded. "I want to talk to you. You can say now whatever you might have said sooner. I'm not married yet: I'm still free."
"You haven't given your answer?"
"It doesn't matter if I have."
The retort frightened him with the glimpse of what she still expected of him, and what he was still so unable to give.
"That means you've said yes?" he pursued, to gain time.
"Yes or no—it doesn't matter. I had to say something. What I want is your advice."
"At the eleventh hour?"
"Or the twelfth." She paused. "What shall I
