And the terror that
had sprung into her eyes when the meaning of what he
told her came home to her was not a pleasant thing to
remember. Now, when the die was cast, he was beset
with doubts of his own wisdom.
Anne looked at him remorsefully; then she slipped down
on the rug beside him and laid her glossy red head on
his arm.
"Gilbert, I've been rather hateful over this. I won't
be any more. Please just call me red-headed and
forgive me."
By which Gilbert understood that, no matter what came
of it, there would be no I-told-you-so's. But he was
not wholly comforted. Duty in the abstract is one
thing; duty in the concrete is quite another,
especially when the doer is confronted by a woman's
stricken eyes.
Some instinct made Anne keep away from Leslie for the
next three days. On the third evening Leslie came down
to the little house and told Gilbert that she had made
up her mind; she would take Dick to Montreal and have
the operation.
She was very pale and seemed to have wrapped herself in
her old mantle of aloofness. But her eyes had lost the
look which had haunted Gilbert; they were cold and
bright; and she proceeded to discuss details with him
in a crisp, business-like way.
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