the moment's space in which they met the startled ones of her husband, had a wild hunted look, but it was gone almost before his slow brain had time to note that it had been there—and was vaguely disturbing. She laughed a little, unsteadily.
"Did I startle you? I'm sorry. I" she laughed again. "I believe I'm a little nervous. When one is all day alone" She paused without finishing the sentence. The man's face changed suddenly. A wave of tenderness swept over it, and at the same time an expression of half-incredulous delight shone in his pale eyes.
"Poor little girl, are you really lonely?" he said. Even the real feeling in his tone failed to rob his voice of its peculiarly irritating grating quality. He rose awkwardly and moved to his wife's side.
Involuntarily she shrank a little, and the hand which he had stretched out to touch her hair sank to his side. She recovered herself immediately and turned her face up to his, though she did not raise her eyes; but he did not kiss her. Instead, he stood in an embarrassed fashion a moment by her side, and then went back to his seat.
There was silence again for some time. The man lay back in his chair, gazing at his big clumsy shoes, as though he hoped for some inspiration from that quarter, while his wife worked with nervous haste.
"Don't let me keep you from reading, John," she said, and her voice had regained its usual gentle tone.
"No, my dear; I'm just thinking of something to say to you, but I don't seem"
She smiled a little. In spite of herself, her lip curled faintly. "Don't worry about it—it was stupid of me to expect it. I mean" she added hastily, immediately repenting the sarcasm.
