He thrust his arm out across the way, resting his head against the
door-post. She started, almost nervously, and then stood still again
and looked at him.
'No,' he said, 'I shall not try to keep you, and the door is open. But
please don't say good-bye like that, as if we were not going to meet
soon.' 'It's not good for us to be alone together,' she said.
The words came by instinct, and acknowledged a weakness in herself.
After she had spoken, she was very sorry. His drawn face softened.
'That's why I forgive you,' she said, with sudden frankness, and a
blush reddened her cheeks under the fawn-coloured veil she had drawn
down again.
He took her hand, against her will and almost violently, but in an
instant his own was gentle again.
'Margaret!' His voice had a thrill in it.
'No,' she answered, but not roughly now, and scarcely trying to free
herself. 'No. I don't love you in the least. That is why I won't marry
you. There's something that draws me to you against my will
sometimes--yes, I know that! But I hate it, and I'm afraid of it. It's
not what I like in you, it's what I like least. It's something like
hypnotism, I'm sure. I'm ashamed of it, because it is what has made me
flirt with you. Yes, I have! I've flirted outrageously, except that
I've always told you that I never would marry you. I've been truthful
in that, at all events.' 'Do you think I reproach you?' 'You might have, this morning. Now we have each something to reproach
the other. We will forgive and say good-bye for a while. When we meet
again, that something I'm afraid of will be gone--perhaps--then
everything will be different. Now, good-bye.' He had held her hand all the time while she had been speaking. She
pressed his now, with an impulse of frank loyalty, and dropped it
suddenly.
'Do you mean that I may not even come and see you?' he asked.
'Not till after my début,' answered Margaret in a decided tone, for
she felt that she dominated him at last. 'You don't want me to be a
singer and I cannot help feeling your opposition. It disturbs me, as
the time comes near. Of course I can't hinder you from being there on
the first night----' 'No indeed!' 'And when you've heard me, and seen Gilda's head come out of the sack,
and when the curtain has gone down on Rigoletto's despair--why, then
you may come behind and congratulate me, especially if I've made a
failure! Till then I don't want to see you, please!' 'I cannot wait so long. It is nearly three weeks.' Margaret stood up very straight in the doorway, already past him and
free to go out.