She turned. "No. I will go alone."
He did not move. "Please, Avery!" he said.
Her heart gave a quick throb at the low-spoken words. She paused almost
involuntarily, realizing with a great rush of thankfulness that he would
not stir a step to follow unless she gave him leave.
For an instant she stood irresolute. Then: "Come if you wish!" she said.
She heard him move, and herself passed on, descending the steps into the
dewy garden with again that odd feeling of unreality, almost as if she
walked in a dream.
He came behind her, silent as a shadow, and not till she deliberately
waited for him did he overtake and walk beside her.
No words passed between them as they went. They seemed to move through a
world of shadows,--a spell-bound, waiting world. And gradually, as if a
soothing hand had been laid upon her, Avery felt the wild tumult at her
heart subside. She remembered that he had refrained himself almost at her
first word, and slowly her confidence came back. He had appealed to her
to understand, and she could not let his appeal go wholly unanswered.
As they passed at length through the gate that led into the Vicarage
lane, she spoke. "Piers, I am not angry."
"Aren't you?" he said, and by the eager relief of his voice she knew that
her silence had been hard to bear.
She put out a hand to him as they walked.
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