She had not
resented the confidence of his wooing--she had given him some cause to be
confident; she pitied and even hated the distress into which her doubt
threw him. Yet she could do no more than say "I don't know yet." He moved
away from her.
"You'd better go away and leave me altogether," she said.
"I won't do that. I can't."
"I can say nothing else--I don't know yet. You must give me time."
"Ah, you mean 'yes'!" His voice grew assured again and joyful.
She weighed the words in which she answered him.
"No. If I meant yes, I'd say it. I wouldn't shilly-shally. I simply don't
know yet."
He left her and paced the length of the room, frowning. Her hesitation
puzzled him; he failed to trace its origin and fretted against a barrier
that he felt but could not see. She sat silent, looking at him in a
distressed fashion and restlessly fingering Lady Richard's invitation.
She was no less troubled than he and almost as puzzled; for the feeling
that held her back even while she wanted to go forward was vague,
formless, empty of anything definite enough to lay hold of and bring
forward as the plea that justified her wavering.
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