“I will go and wash my hands,” he said drearily. He mounted to his bedroom and cleansed himself from the book-dust and returned to Yvonne. He drew his chair to the table. She poured him out his tea, and helped him to butter, according to a habit into which she had fallen. She deplored the spoilt toast. He said that it did not matter. But when he tried to eat, the food stuck in his throat. Yvonne made no pretence at eating, but trifled with her teaspoon, with downcast eyes. Joyce looked at her anxiously. She seemed to have grown older. The childlike expression had changed into a sad, womanly seriousness. Presently she raised her eyes, soft and appealing as ever, and met his. “Did you see Everard?” she asked. “No. I was out. But he left a note--that told me everything.” “He asks for your consent?” “Yes.” “And will you give it?” she asked, below her breath. “It would be worse than folly for me to try to withhold it,” he said, bitterly. “I will stay with you, and go on living this life, if you wish.” “And yourself?” “I don’t count,” she said, “I must do as I am told.” “Would you be happy with Everard?” he asked huskily. “Yes--of course--I was before,” she replied. But her cheek grew paler. “And you would stay, if I asked you, and share all this struggle and poverty with me?” “How could I refuse? Don’t I owe you my life?” He looked for a tremulous second into her pure eyes and knew that he was master of her fate. The condition she had imposed upon Everard was no graceful act of acknowledgment. It was a serious placing of her future in his hands. He was silent for a few moments, deep in agitated thought, trembling with a struggle against a fierce temptation. The hand that nervously tugged at his moustache was shaking. Yvonne read the anxious trouble on his face. “Don’t worry over it now,” she said, gently. “There is time, you know. Why should people always want to decide things straight off?” “You are right, Yvonne,” said Stephen. “Let us forget it for a little.” “Your poor tea,” add Yvonne, with pathetic return to her old manner. “It will never be drunk. And do eat something, to please me.”