On reappearing, she went to the sitting-room
door and turned the key in the lock.
"Could you let me have some more books to read?" she asked.
"I have brought one, thinking you might be ready for it."
It was "Jane Eyre." She glanced over the pages eagerly.
"I don't know how it is," she said, "I have grown so hungry for
reading of late. Till just now I never cared for it. When I was a
child and went to school, I didn't like my lessons. Still I learned
a good deal, for a little girl, and it has stayed by me. And oh, it
seems so long ago! Never mind, perhaps I will tell you all about
that some day."
They were together for an hour or so. Waymark, uneasily watching his
companion's every movement, rose as soon as she gave sign of
weariness, and Ida did not seek to detain him.
"I shall think much of you," he said.
"The less the better," was Ida's reply.
For his comfort, yes,--Waymark thought, as he walked homewards.
Ida had already a dangerous hold upon him; she possessed his senses,
and set him on fire with passionate imaginings. Here, as on every
hand, his cursed poverty closed against him the possibilities of
happiness. That she should ever come to love him, seemed very
unlikely; the alliance between them could only be a mere caprice on
her part, such as girls of her kind are very subject to; he might
perhaps fill up her intervals of tedium, but would have no share in
her real life.
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