"
This, from her manner, her deceptive look of fragility everywhere
drooping with regret, was patent. What she said, thought, felt, was
magnificently reflected, given visibility, by her fluid being. "But you
haven't come over here to talk to me about that," she said directly;
"you want me to give up Peyton."
He nodded, relieved that she had made the introduction of his purpose
so easy.
"I ought to tell you, before we begin," she warned him, "that I can't.
Nothing can convince me that we are wrong. We didn't try to have this
happen, we did all we could--but it was too late--to prevent it," Mina
Raff repeated Peyton's own assurance to him. "Things were taken out of
our hands. Why I went to Eastlake I don't know, it was dreadfully
inconvenient, and my director did what he could to keep me working.
But, as you know, I persisted. Why?" She stopped and regarded him
imploringly, through the romantic veil. "I haven't the smallest idea,"
she continued. "Peyton had seen me again in New York; I knew then that
I meant a lot to him; but it couldn't have happened if I hadn't stayed
with Anette."
Her voice, her wonderment, he thought, were colored by superstition.
Evidently, up to a certain point, she had resisted, and then--how
charming it must have been for Morris--she collapsed. She had convinced
herself that they were intended for each other. Lee asked, "How well do
you know Peyton?"
"Not at all in the way you do," she admitted candidly; "I understand
him only with my heart.
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