“Oh, I must come back,” she said: and there was silence.
“And would you have a child in Wragby?” he asked.
She closed her arm round his neck.
“If you wouldn’t take me away, I should have to,” she said.
“Take you where to?”
“Anywhere! away! But right away from Wragby.”
“When?”
“Why, when I come back.”
“But what’s the good of coming back, doing the thing twice, if you’re once gone?” he said.
“Oh, I must come back. I’ve promised! I’ve promised so faithfully. Besides, I come back to you, really.”
“To your husband’s gamekeeper?”
“I don’t see that that matters,” she said.
“No?” He mused a while. “And when would you think of going away again, then; finally? When exactly?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’d come back from Venice. And then we’d prepare everything.”
“How prepare?”
“Oh, I’d tell Clifford. I’d have to tell him.”
“Would you!”