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'You are hurting me, I said coldly, 'with your elbow. 'Oh, a thousand pardons! a thous' parnds, Magda! That isn't your real name, is it? He sat upright and turned his face to glance at mine with a fatuous smile; but I would not look at him. I kept my eyes straight in front. Then a swerve of the carriage swung his body away from me, and he subsided into the corner.
I've lived, not vegetated and I've had a very good time, too." She paused, then added slowly: "Though I've missed the best." Magda slipped her hand into the old woman's thin, wrinkled one with a quick gesture of understanding, and a little sympathetic silence fell between them.
The train steamed fussily out of Ashencombe station, leaving Magda, Gillian, and Coppertop, together with sundry trunks and suitcases, in undisputed possession of the extremely amateurish-looking platform. Magda glanced about her with amusement. "What a ridiculous little wayside place!" she exclaimed. "It has a kind of 'home-made' appearance, hasn't it?
Magda demurred a little at first, but Gillian, suddenly endowed with diplomacy worthy of a Machiavelli, pointed out that if she really had any intention of ultimately withdrawing into a community the least she could do was to give her godmother the happiness of spending a few days with her. "She will only urge me to give up the idea all the time," protested Magda. "And I've quite made up my mind.
"Where have you hailed from? I heard the car but never suspected you were the arrival." "I'm on holiday," he replied. "And it struck me" his hazel eyes smiled straight into hers "that Devonshire might be a very delightful place in which to spend my holiday." Magda looked up suddenly from stirring her tea. "I think you've made a mistake, Davilof," she said curtly.
She drummed on the window with impatient fingers; and then, drowning the little tapping noise they made, came the sound of an opening door and Melrose's placid voice announcing: "Mr. Quarrington." Magda whirled round from the window. "Michael!" she exclaimed joyfully. "I was just wondering if you would be able to get over this evening. I suppose you came while you could!" laughing.
The sooner I can get away from from everything" looking round her with desperate, haunted eyes "the better it will be." Gillian's impulse to combat her decision to rejoin the sisterhood died on her lips stillborn. It was useless to argue the matter. There was only one person in the world who could save Magda from herself, and that was Michael.
"Well, you expected my time to be pretty well occupied the first week or two after Magda came back, didn't you?" countered Gillian. She smiled as she spoke and proceeded leisurely to draw off her gloves, while Storran signalled to a waiter. She was really very glad to see him again.
And in any case" after a moment "I'm not likely to fall in love with you or anyone else." "You think not?" He stood looking down at her sombrely. "You'll fall in love right enough some day. And when you do it will be all or nothing with you, too. You're that kind. Love will take you and break you, Magda." He spoke slowly, with an odd kind of tensity.
And by God, if you won't marry me, I will! . . . Magda " With one of the swift changes so characteristic of the man he softened suddenly into passionate supplication. "Have a little mercy! God! If you knew how I love you, you couldn't turn me away. Wait! Think again " "That will do." She checked him imperiously. "I don't want your love.
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