er use; so that, a good deal amazed, puzzled and pained, he saw
that he should make a mistake if he were to insist. He had known that
their expedition must end in a separation which could not be sweet, but
he had counted on making some of the terms of it himself. When he
expressed the hope that she would at least allow him to put her into a
car, she replied that she wished no car; she wanted to walk. This image
of her "streaking off" by herself, as he figured it, did not mend the
matter; but in the presence of her sudden nervous impatience he felt
that here was a feminine mystery which must be allowed to take its
course.

"It costs me more than you probably suspect, but I submit. Heaven guard
you and bless you, Miss Tarrant!"

She turned her face away from him as if she were straining at a leash;
then she rejoined, in the most unexpected manner: "I hope very much you
_will_ get printed."

"Get my articles published?" He stared, and broke out: "Oh, you
delightful being!"

"Good-bye," she repeated; and now she gave him her hand. As he held it a
moment, and asked her if she were really leaving the city so soon that
she mightn't see him again, she answered: "If I stay it will be at a
place to which you mustn't come. They wouldn't let you see me."

He had not intended to put that question to her; he had set himself a
limit. But the limit had suddenly moved on. "Do you mean at that house
where I heard you speak?"

"I may go there for a few days."

"If it's forbidden to me to go and see you there, why did you send me a
card?"

"Because I wanted to convert you then."

"And now you give me up?"

"No, no; I want you to remain as you are!"

She looked strange, with her more mechanical smile, as she said this,
and he didn't know what idea was in her head. She had already left him,
but he called after her, "If you do stay, I will come!" She neither
turned nor made an answer, and all that was left to him was to watch her
till she passed out of sight. Her back, with its charming young form,
seemed to repeat that last puzzle, which was almost a challenge.

For this, however, Verena Tarrant had not meant it. She wanted, in spite
of the greater delay and the way Olive would wonder, to walk home,
because it gave her time to think, and think again, how glad she was
(really, positively, _now_) that Mr. Ransom was on the wrong side. If he
had been on the right----! She did not finish this proposition. She
found Olive waiting