Left alone in a tumult of desires and repressions, Jenny felt she would like to fling herself down upon the rugs and cry. Sentiment, for an instant, helped the cause of tears, when she thought of the many hours spent on that pile, drowsily happy. Then backwards and forwards went the image of her lover in ludicrous movement, and the whole situation seemed such a fuss about nothing. There was a merciless clarity about Jenny's comprehension when, urged by scenes of passion, she called upon her mind for a judgment. Perhaps it was the fatalism of an untrained reason which taught her to grasp the futility of emotional strife. Or it may have been what is called a sense of humor, which always from one point of view must imply a lack of imagination. Maurice came back and handed her the telegram. Uncle Stephen died suddenly in Seville come home at once please dear you must go out and look after aunt Ella Mother "She's fond of you, isn't she?" Maurice looked puzzled. "Your mother, I mean." "Why?" "I don't know. I think she's written very nice, that's all. I wish you hadn't got to go away though." "Yes, and to Spain of all places. This is the uncle I was telling you about. I come into two thousand pounds. I must go." "I wish you hadn't got to go away," she repeated sorrowfully. "Just when the weather's getting fine, too. But you must go, of course," she added. Jenny wrung this bidding out of herself very hardly, but Maurice accepted it casually enough. Suddenly he was seized with an idea: "Jenny, this two thousand pounds is the key to the situation." "What?" "Of course I can," he assured the air. "I can settle this on you. I can provide for you, whatever happens to me. Now there's absolutely no reason why you shouldn't give way." "I don't see that two thousand pounds makes _any_ difference. What do you think I am?" "I'm not buying you, my dear girl. I'm not such a fool as to suppose I could do that." "No, you couldn't. No man could buy me." "I'm very glad of it," he said. "What I mean is that now I've no scruples of my own to get over. This is certain. I know that if anything happens to me, you would be all right. Jenny, you must say 'yes.'" "I've told you I will one day. Don't keep on asking. Besides, you're going away. You'll have other things to think about besides your little Jenny. Only come back soon, Maurice, because I do love you so." "Love me!" he scoffed. "Love me! Rot! A woman without the pluck to trust herself to the lover talks of love. It means nothing, this love of yours. It's just a silly fancy. Love hasn't widened your horizon. Love hasn't given your life any great impetus. Look at me--absolutely possessed by my love for you. That's passion." "I don't think it's much else, I don't," said Jenny. "How like a girl! How exactly like every other girl! Good Lord, and I thought you were different. I thought you wouldn't be so blind as to separate love from passion."