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 "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?"

"I hoped…"

"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