David was very pale. It may have been from his long journey. But he at least did not know, because he said that he didn't when she asked him.
"And now," she said, "you must tell me all that you haven't written."
"Not quite yet," said David. "There is first a little matter of business...."
But David counted out his debt to her methodically, with the accrued interest.
"But I," she said, "I, too, have things of yours to return."
"Of mine?" He lifted his eyebrows expectantly.
She waved a hand, white and clean as a cherry blossom, toward a claw-footed table on which stood decanters, ice, soda, cigarettes, cigars, and matches.
"Oh," said David. "But I have decided not to be a backslider."
"I know," she said. "But in business--as a matter of form."
"Oh," said David, "if it's a matter of form, it must be complied with."
He stepped to the table, smiling charmingly, and poured from the nearest decanter into a glass, added ice and soda, and lifting the mixture touched it to his lips, and murmured, "To you."
Then he put a cigarette in his mouth, and, after drawing the one breath that served to light it, flicked it, with perfect accuracy, half across the room and into the fireplace.
Still smiling, he walked slowly toward Miss Tennant, who was really excited to know what he would do next.
"Betcher two cents it snows to-morrow," said he.
"Done with you, David," she took him up merrily. And after that a painful silence came over them. David set his jaws.
"I gave you one more promise," he said. "Is that, too, returned?"
"Of course," she said, "all the promises you gave are herewith returned."
"Then I may make love?" he asked very gently.
She did not answer for some moments, and then, steeling herself, for she thought that she must hurt him:
"Yes, David," she said slowly, "you may--as a matter of form."
"I thought--I thought," said the young man in confusion.
"I made you think so," she said generously. "Let all of the punishment, that can, be heaped on me ... David...." There was a deep appeal in her voice as for mercy and forgiveness.
"Then," said he, "you never did care--at all."
But even at this juncture Miss Tennant could not speak the truth.
"Never, David--never at all--at least not in _that_ way," she said. "If I let you think so it was because I thought it would help you to be strong and to succeed.... God knows I think I was wrong to let you think so...."