Unthinkingly I had invited what he was going to
say. "Playing groom does not interest me. Why play? And stop
looking out of the window." He changed his seat and took the one
beside me. "Look at me, Danny. Why can't we be married at Claxon?
We'll wait for those children to come back and then--"
"Is that exactly fair?" I drew away the hands he was hurting in his
tense grip. "I hardly thought you'd take--" I shut my eyes to keep
back quick tears for which there was no accounting. Something
curious was suddenly possessing me, something that for weeks I had
seemed fighting and resisting. An overmastering desire to give in;
to surrender, to yield to his love for me, to mine for him, was
disarming me, and swift, inexplicable impulse to marry him and give
up the thing I was trying to do urged and swept over me. And then I
remembered his house with its high walls. And I remembered
Scarborough Square. Until there was between them sympathy and
understanding there could be no abiding basis on which love could
build and find enrichment and fulfilment.
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