They sat down on the couch
beside the fire.
"Do you remember that awful day when we quarrelled about Dick Green?"
said Vera suddenly.
He kept her hand in his. "Don't!" he said. "Don't remind me of it!"
Her laugh had in it a thrill that was like a caress. "Wasn't I a pig,
Edward? And weren't you a tyrant? I haven't seen you in one of your royal
rages since. I always rather admired them, you know."
"I know you hated me," he said, "and I'm not surprised."
She made a face at him. "Silly! I didn't. I thought you the finest
monster I had ever seen. So you were--quite magnificent." She put up a
hand and stroked his iron-grey hair. "Well, we shan't quarrel about young
Green any more," she said.
"I wonder," said the squire, not looking at her.
"I don't." She spoke with confidence. "I'm going to be tremendously nice
to him--not for Juliet's sake--for yours."
"Thank you, my dear," he said, with an odd humility of utterance that
came strangely from him. "I shall appreciate your kindness. As you
know--I am very fond of Dick."
"You were going to tell me why once," she said.
He took her hand and held it for a moment. "I will tell you
to-night," he said.
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