Still they didn't separate; they stood smoking together under the stars. Then at last Sir Claude produced it. "I'm free—I'm free!"
She looked up at him; it was the very spot on which a couple of hours before she had looked up at her mother. "You 're free—you're free."
"To-morrow we go to France." He spoke as if he had not heard her; but it did n't prevent her again concurring.
"To-morrow we go to France."
Again he appeared not to have heard her; and after a moment—it was an effect evidently of the depth of his reflections and the agitation of his soul—he also spoke as if he had not spoken before. "I'm free—I 'm free."
She repeated her form of assent. "You 're free—you 're free."
This time he did hear her and fixed her through the darkness with a grave face. But he said nothing more; he simply stooped a little and drew her to him—simply held her a little and kissed her good-night; after which, having given her a silent push upstairs to Miss Ash, he turned round again to the black masts and the red lights. Maisie mounted as if France were at the top.
