' When I knew I should have to lie here, I told
myself that. And now you--' Her voice almost failed her. 'I suppose
you haven't been kind enough to him.'
'I think it's time I went,' Rose said.
'And you'll never come back?'
'Yes, if you want me.'
'I can say what I like to you.'
'You can, indeed,' Rose murmured.
'And tell Henrietta to come too.'
'No, I can't ask Henrietta.'
'I promise to be like a maiden aunt. Ah, but she has three already--
she knows what they are. That won't attract her. I'll be like an
invalid in a Sunday School story-book.'
'I'll tell her of your promise,' Rose said.
There remained the task of having tea with Francis Sales and breaking
the bonds of which he had tired. She made it easy for him. That was
necessary for her dignity, but beyond the desire for as much
seemliness as could be saved from the general ugliness of their
mistake, she had no feeling; yet she thought it would be good to be in
the open air, on horseback, free. If there had been anything still
owing, she had paid her debt with generosity. She gave him the chance
he wanted but did not know how to take, and she had to allow him to
appear aggrieved. She was cruel: she was tired of him; she was, he
sneered, too good for him. The words went on for some time, and if
some of them were new, their manner was wearisomely familiar. She was
amazed at her own endurance, now and in the past, and at last she
said, 'No, no, Francis.
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