THE LOVE OF MONSIEUR
give it to you willingly—as I give you my life.”
She took the packet of papers and looked at the blurred writing upon the outside. Captain Ferrers made a step towards her, and, taking her hand again, would have drawn her towards him. But as he approached and she felt his breath warm upon her cheek, a change came over her and she drew back and away from him to the other side of the table.
Captain Ferrers could not understand. His brows knit angrily.
“How now, Barbara—” he began.
“Not to-day, Stephen. Not to-day, I pray you.” She was half smiling, half crying. “Can you not see I am overwrought with my grief and worries? Leave me for the day. I will requite you better another time.”
She fell upon the couch and buried her face in her hands. Captain Ferrers looked at her quizzically for a moment, but the smile at his lips was not a pleasant one. Then he tossed his chin and walked towards the door.
“Very well, then! Until to-morrow.” He took his hat and was gone.
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