She dared not ask herself why. She must
manoeuvre to put it off as long as possible; and meanwhile some opening
might occur to enlighten him. She would talk to him about her work; and
explain to him how she had determined to devote her life to it to the
exclusion of all other distractions. If, then, he chose to go on loving
her--or if he couldn't help it--that would not be her fault. After all,
it did him no harm. She could always be gracious and kind to him. It
was not as if she had tricked him. He had always loved her. Kneeling
before her, serving her: it was evident it made him supremely happy. It
would be cruel of her to end it.
The landlady entered unexpectedly with the tea; but he did not rise till
Joan turned away, nor did he seem disconcerted. Neither did the
landlady. She was an elderly, quiet-eyed woman, and had served more than
one generation of young people with their teas.
They returned home by train. Joan insisted on travelling third class,
and selected a compartment containing a stout woman and two children.
Arthur had to be at the works.
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