"It must be time for me to go," she said at last.
The rain was still falling in torrents.
"Oh, no!" he exclaimed. "You mustn't go yet. Your train does not leave
for another hour. Why do you want to go?"
She was struggling with the button of a glove, and he went to help her,
but she repulsed him, half unconsciously, as she would have brushed off
a troublesome fly.
The gesture irritated him.
"I cannot believe you are not conscientious," she said, with a frown of
intentness. "When a man of talent ceases to be true, he loses half his
power."
He turned from her coldly, sat down at the writing table, and began to
write.
Ideala was still putting on her gloves.
Outside, the rain fell lightly now, and the clouds were clearing. The
children were still playing at the open window of the house opposite.
Lorrimer had often been obliged to answer notes when she was there; she
thought nothing of that; but he was a long time, and at last she
interrupted him. "Forgive me if I disturb you," she said, "but I am
afraid I shall miss my train."
"Oh, pardon me," he answered, jumping up, and looking at his watch.
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