"That's quite different," said Ida. "But if you like, we can go in
the afternoon, and walk about Roehampton; that I can afford."
"As you please. When shall I call for you?"
"Half-past one."
She opened the door for him, and held out her hand. Their eyes did
not meet as they said good-bye. The door closed, and Waymark went so
slowly down the stone steps that he seemed at every moment on the
point of stopping and turning back.
CHAPTER XX
A SUGGESTION
Waymark and Julian Casti were sitting together in the former's room.
It was Saturday evening--two days after Waymark's visit to Ida.
Julian had fallen into a sad reverie.
"How is your wife?" asked his friend, after watching the melancholy
face for a while.
"She said her headache was worse to-night."
"Curiously," observed Waymark, with a little acidity, "it always is
when you have to leave home."
Julian looked up, and seemed to reach a crisis in his thoughts.
"Waymark," he began, reddening as he still always did when greatly
moved, "I fear I have been behaving very foolishly. Many a time I
have wished to speak out to you plainly, but a sort of delicacy--a
wrong kind of delicacy, I think--prevented me.
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