everything will be all right,” she rejoined. “You go back this afternoon, I suppose? I’ve left you a little note, with my address, and I want you to promise”
She paused, for Amherst had made a motion as though to interrupt her. The old confused sense that there must always be truth between them was struggling in him with the strong restraints of habit and character; and suddenly, before he was conscious of having decided to speak, he heard himself say: “I ought to tell you that I am not going back.”
“Not going back?” A flash of apprehension crossed Justine’s face. “Not till tomorrow, you mean?” she added, recovering herself.
Amherst hesitated, glancing vaguely up and down the street. At that noonday hour it was nearly deserted. and Justine’s driver dozed on his perch above the hansom. They could speak almost as openly as if they had been in one of the wood-paths at Lynbrook.
“Nor tomorrow,” Amherst said in a low voice. There was another pause before he added: “It may be some time before—” He broke off, and then continued with an effort: “The fact is, I am thinking of going back to my old work.”
She caught him up with an exclamation of surprise and sympathy. “Your old work? You mean at”
She was checked by the quick contraction of pain in
his face. “Not that! I mean that I’m thinking of
[ 332 ]
