She could
scarcely breathe. She sat there lost in stupefied wonder. At last
tea came in, and with it Paul and Maggie. Grace felt ashamed and
frightened. Why was Maggie always making her do things of which she
was ashamed? It was as though the girl had power over her . . .
absurd, of course. Nevertheless, as she poured out the tea she was
haunted by that man's eyes. Yes, he had undoubtedly been very
unhappy. Yes, in great trouble.
Maggie sat quietly there. Paul was preoccupied with a letter that
must, he had decided, be written to The Church Times. It was a
letter about Churchwardens and their growing independence. He
finished his tea hurriedly, but before he left the room, looking at
Maggie rather wistfully, suddenly he bent down and kissed her. She
glanced up at him, smiling.
"Is there anything I can do for you, Grace?" she asked.
Then, as it were without her own desire, Grace was compelled to
speak. "There's something I ought to tell you--" she began
awkwardly. Then she stopped. Maggie was troubled. She knew that when
Grace was uncomfortable every one else was uncomfortable.
"What have I done now?" she said rather sharply.
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