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October, as I said, when the lease on this house runs out, we can
manage, perhaps, to change the scale a little. There you are! Now do
stop worrying about it and let's go to bed."
But she sat there just as she was, staring at the dying fire, her hands
lying slack in her lap, all as if she hadn't heard. The long silence
irked him. He pulled out his watch, looked at it and began winding it.
He mended the fire so that it would be safe for the night; bolted a
window. Every minute or two, he stole a look at her, but she was always
just the same. Except for the faint rise and fall of her bosom, she
might have been a picture, not a woman.
At last he said again, "Come along, Rose, dear."
"It'll be too late in October," she said. "That's why I wanted to decide
things to-night. Because we must begin right away." Then she looked up
into his face. "It will be too late in October," she repeated, "unless
we begin now."
The deep tense seriousness of her voice and her look arrested his full
attention.


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