It's very lovely, the
higher part. You must go. Ask him to take you."
"I don't understand you," said Irene coldly. "Why should I ask Mr.
Otway to take me?"
"I beg your pardon. You are become so critical of words and phrases.
To take _us_, I'll say."
"That wouldn't be a very agreeable walk, Helen, whilst you are in
this strange mood. What does it all mean? I never foresaw the
possibility of misunderstandings such as this between us. Is it I
who am to blame, or you? Have I offended you?"
"No, dear," was the dreamy response.
"Then why do you seem to wish to quarrel with me?"
Helen had the look of one who strugglingly overcomes a paroxysm of
anger. She stood up.
"Would you leave me alone for a little, Irene? I'm not quite able to
talk. I think we've both of us been doing too much--overtaxing
ourselves. It has got on my nerves."
"Yes I will go," was the answer, spoken very quietly. "And to-morrow
morning I will return to London."
She moved away.
"Irene!"
"Yes----?"
"I have something to tell you before you go." Helen spoke with a set
face, forcing herself to meet her friend's eyes. "Mr. Otway wants an
opportunity of talking with you, alone. He hoped for it this
morning. As he couldn't see you, he talked about you to me--you
being the only subject he could talk about. I promised to be out of
the way if he came this afternoon."
"Thank you--but why didn't you tell me this before?"
"Because, as I said, things have got rather on my nerves.
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