Her eyes sparkled softly and my spirits rose.
"You care for him, Una? You can forgive him?"
"I--I care for him," she murmured. "You know I have, always."
"Can you forgive him?" I repeated. She remained silent and her gaze which sought the distant buildings was troubled. But I had gone too far to pause now.
"He worships you, Una," I blurted out. "He has told me. But he cannot speak. He is unclean, he says. Have pity on him, Una. Forgive him, forgive him--"
She turned toward me, her slate-blue eyes brimming with moisture. And then with one of those sudden transitions that were her greatest mystery and charm, she rose and with a quick touch of her fingers to mine, left me swiftly and in a moment was gone.
I stood a moment bewildered. Then I fingered in my pocket for Miss Gore's new address. That remarkable woman would discern what Una's conduct meant. Queer creatures, women! But interesting, strangely interesting....
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Paradise Garden, by George Gibbs