"I knew I would not. If George had said no, I should have fought him. I was determined upon that book of Staffordshire Pottery. Were you disappointed with my letter when it came?"
"I loved it. I have always loved your letters. You never disappoint me then."
Because they had grown more intimate he was able to say to her gently, but with unmistakable feeling:
"Dear, it hurts me so when you say that. I know I shall think of it when I am alone, wonder in what way I fail you, how I can alter or change. Can you help me, tell me? I came down with such confidence."
"But you had cut yourself shaving."
"Be a little serious, beloved. Tell me."
"You thought I cared for you … that we should begin in Pineland where we left off in London?"
"But I had run away from you!"
They smiled at each other.
"You will come again next week?" she asked him inconsistently.
"And if I should again disappoint you?"
"Then you must be patient with me, good to me until it is all right again. I am a strange creature, a woman of moods." She was silent a moment. "I have been through so much." He bent toward