She
confessed to me afterwards that she did not herself know what she was
doing. And the final result of these adventures was to encourage her
because he had not repelled her. He _must_ have noticed, she thought,
the times when her hand had touched his, when his mouth had been, so
close to hers that their very thoughts had mingled, when she had felt
the stuff of his coat, and even for an instant stroked it. He _must_
have noticed these things, and still he had never rebuffed her. He was
always so kind to her; she fancied that his voice had a special note of
tenderness in it when he spoke to her, and when she looked at his ugly,
quiet, solid face, she could not believe that they were not meant for
one another. He _must_ want her, her gaiety, happiness, youth--it would
be wrong for him _not_ to! There could be no girls in that stupid,
practical, far-away England who would be the wife to him that she would
be.
Then the cursed misery of that waiting! They could hear in their
sitting-room the steps coming up the stone stairs outside their flat,
and every step seemed to be his. Ah, he had come earlier than he had
fixed.
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