"
"Then I have come a thousand miles for nothing. This is worse than the
time in London when I left you for your strictness. Can nothing be
done?"
"Am I not devoted to you? We have spent the whole day together. Now I
don't think it's at all nice of you to reproach me with having brought
you on a fool's errand."
"I didn't say that," and we quarrelled a little until we reached the
carriage. Doris was angry, and when she spoke again it was to say:
"If you are not satisfied, you can go back. I'm sorry. I think it's
most unreasonable that you should ask me to compromise myself."
"And I think it's unkind of you to suggest that I should go back, for
how can I go back?"
She did not ask me why--she was too angry at the moment--and it was
well she did not, for I should have been embarrassed to tell her that
I was fairly caught.
I had come a thousand miles to see her, and I could not say I was
going to take the _Cote d'azur_ back again, because she would not
let me stay at her hotel; to do so would be too childish, too futile.
The misery of the journey back would be unendurable. There was nothing
to do but to wait, and hope that life, which is always full of
accidents, would favour us. Better think no more about it.
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