" She took
a step forward. "Will you overlook it--forget about it? Of course
I should have told you before he came."
"It's strange that there should he anything to overlook or forget
between _us_," said Irene, with wide pathetic eyes.
"There isn't really! It's not you and I that have got muddled--
only things, circumstances. If you had been a little more chummy
with me. There's a time for silence, but also a time for talking."
"Dear, there are things one _can't_ talk about, because one doesn't
know what to say, even to oneself."
"I know! I know it!" replied Helen, with emphasis.
And she came still nearer, with hand held out.
"All nerves, Irene! Neuralgia of--of the common sense, my dear!"
They parted with a laugh and a quick clasp of hands.
CHAPTER XXXVII
For half an hour Irene sat idle. She was waiting, and could do
nothing but wait. Then the uncertainty as to how long this suspense
might hold her grew insufferable; she was afraid too, of seeing
Helen again, and having to talk, when talk would be misery. A
thought grew out of her unrest--a thought clear-shining amid the
tumult of turbid emotions. She would go forth to meet him. He should
see that she came with that purpose--that she put away all
trivialities of prescription and of pride. If he were worthy, only
the more would he esteem her. If she deluded herself--it lay in
the course of Fate.
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