cry, it makes me want to do something beautiful for them"
"When you talk like that you make me feel like—don't think I'm silly or sentimental or anything, but—well, like saying my prayers to you."
She looked at him gently. There were tears in her eyes. For her, too, waited that black pit of age, at the end of the long road, the road of renunciation that she must travel because of her promise to Elliott. She looked through her tears at this understanding man who had never heard of Elliott.
"But I didn't come to see mother. I came to see you."
"I'm glad," she said, simply, with a smile that made him flush, a touch of her hand on his, lighter than a butterfly.
They played bridge with Mrs. Carey and Aunt Lydia after dinner. Christabel, being exquisitely kind to the old, hardly looked at Curtis, but she felt his eyes on her-all evening.
