Page:In The Cage (London, Duckworth, 1898).djvu/105

Rh she now measured how far he had been from knowing too much. Too much, she called it at present; and that was easy, since it proved so abundantly enough for her that he should simply be where he was. 'As we shall never talk this way but to-night—never, never again!—here it all is; I'll say it; I don't care what you think; it doesn't matter; I only want to help you. Besides, you're kind—you're kind. I've been thinking, then, of leaving for ever so long. But you've come so often—at times,—and you've had so much to do, and it has been so pleasant and interesting, that I've remained, I've kept putting off any change. More than once, when I had nearly decided, you've turned up again and I've thought, "Oh no!" That's the simple fact!' She had by this time got her confusion down so completely that she could laugh. 'This is what I meant when I said to you just now that I "knew." I've known perfectly that you knew I took trouble for you; and that knowledge has been for me, and I seemed to see it was for you, as if there were something—I don't know what to call it!—between us. I mean something