The yellow book: an illustrated quarterly (6.1895)

159

By Evelyn Sharp
“For always, Cynthia,” he repeated doggedly.
She shrugged her shoulders and turned a little towards him.
“You know you couldn’t keep away,” she said scornfully.
“You know you couldn’t do without me,” he rejoined, and
began humming a tune.
“I have done without you for seven years.”
“And a pretty mess you’ve got yourself into at the end of
them,” cried Willis.
“I haven’t—it’s you. It would have been all right if you had
not interfered,” she said, facing him again.
“ Would it ? Then I’m to go, is that it ? ” he said, and
took no notice of her change of expression as he picked up his
hat.
“ It is for always, Cynthia,” he said, and held out his hand.
Cynthia burst into tears.
“ There, I knew,” said Willis, coughing violently for no reason
whatever.
“ What did you know ? ” sobbed Cynthia, swaying towards
him.
“That you would have to give in,” he laughed, coming nearer
to her.
“ Why ? ” said she, struggling to free herself as he put his
arms round her.
“ Because I said so, of course. Bless me, is that going to dis-
please you too ? ”
“ I hate you for saying that, but—I’m glad you did,” she
whispered.—“I suppose I must ask you to dinner,” she said
presently.
“ They will be all my dinners in the future,” he said with
exultation in his voice. “How will it please you to come to me
for all your pocket-money, eh ? ”

“ As