Only Gwen left a letter on the pincushion. An immediate halt took place. She herself had cut the slender tie that had bound them. He was nearly wincing. Or, better still, put all my clothes in the trunk. He drove to his apartment, a second floor studio he 120 was renting above a bakery. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right. Five hours later she tiptoed down the hall and paused at the threshold of what they now called his study. That’s where you go wrong. I am up to the ears in it all— every moment I can spare. Marry me. It frightened her to behold her heart and mind thus laid bare; but the chapter following would reassure her.
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