Page:Stella Dallas, a novel (IA stelladallasnove00prou).pdf/238

228 "Not to-night."

"When shall I see you again?"

(In ten—in five minutes, when "the crowd" told him, he wouldn't want to see her ever again.)

"To-morrow," she managed to smile.

"Yes. Don't forget. We're going to have lunch together to-morrow."

"I won't."

"I've only four days left," he went on eagerly, "give me the morning before lunch, too, will you? Please. We've so much to talk about, and I've only four days left. We'll go somewhere alone."

They had reached the rear door now, Laurel had one hand on the knob.

"Will you? Please answer. Will you?"

Laurel turned and looked up at him, and nodded.

"Right after breakfast?"

She nodded again.

"Promise?"

For the third time she nodded, then suddenly reached out her free hand and touched Richard Grosvenor on his arm, drew her hand back quickly, and whispered, "Good-night."

Her eyes were as black as the lake beneath the moon.

"Laurel!" Richard moved toward her, but she had turned, she had gone. The big door with its heavy spring closed softly upon him.