. . She wanted him so, she wanted
him so desperately!
Then Martha opened the door and announced him, yes, really announced
him, saying: "It's young Mr. Warlock, Miss, and he says if your
aunts isn't in you'll do."
"Ask him to come up, Martha," said Maggie, and then held herself
there, rooted, where she stood so that she should not run to him and
fling her arms round his neck. She felt at once with that quick
perception that was hers, in spite of her ignorance of life, that
this was no moment for love-making, and that he wanted something
quite other from her.
He closed the door behind him, looked round the room, didn't come to
her, but stayed where he was.
"I've been trying to see you all day," he said. "How long have we
got alone do you think?" She never took her eyes from his face.
"Until seven probably. Aunt Elizabeth's in Lambeth and Aunt Anne's
in bed."
"That's luck." He drew a breath of relief, then moved over to the
fireplace. "Maggie, I've come to say we mustn't see one another any
more."
Some one, some vast figure shadowy behind her, moved suddenly
forward and caught her in his arms and his embrace was deadly cold.
Pages:
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336