Mrs. Gracedew was silent just long enough for her soft ironic smile to fill the cup of the pause. "Could you?"
It was as if he had tasted in the words the wine at the brim; for he gave, under the effect of them, a sudden headshake and an awkward laugh. "Well, never perhaps that exactly—when it came to the point. But I had to, you see———" It was difficult to say just what.
She took advantage of it, looking hard, but not seeing at all. "You had to———?"
"Well," he repeated ruefully, "think a lot about it. You didn't suspect that?"
Oh, if he came to suspicions she could only break off! "Don't ask me too many questions."
He looked an instant as if he wondered why. "But isn't this just the moment for them?" He fronted her, with a quickness he tried to dissimulate, from the other side. "What did you suppose?"
She looked everywhere but into his face. "Why, I supposed you were in distress."
He was very grave. "About his terms?"
"About his terms of course!" she laughed. "Not about his religious opinions."
His gratitude was too great for gaiety. "You really, in your beautiful sympathy, guessed my fix?"
