She gave him no pledge in words; a touch of the tact that taught him how
to deal with difficult points prevented him from asking one of her. But
it was quite understood between them; no reference was to be made to the
few lines that the Professor had written. Quisante's uneasiness passed
away, his headache seemed to become less severe; he was in good spirits
as he made his preparations to go to the House. Apparently he had no
consciousness of having asked anything great of her. He had been far more
nervous and shamefaced about his betrayal of the Crusade, far more upset
by the untoward incident of Mr. Foster's letter. May told herself that
she understood why; he was getting accustomed to her and she to him; he
knew her point of view and allowed for it, expecting a similar toleration
in return. As she put it, they were getting equalised, approaching more
nearly to one another's level. You could not aid in queer doings and reap
the fruits of them without suffering some gradual subtle moral change
which must end in making them seem less queer.
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