His voice had the true ring of
shame in revolt.
'Then go your way, and I will go mine!'
Amy left the room.
When Reardon went into the bedchamber an hour later, he unfolded
a chair-bedstead that stood there, threw some rugs upon it, and
so lay down to pass the night. He did not close his eyes. Amy
slept for an hour or two before dawn, and on waking she started
up and looked anxiously about the room. But neither spoke.
There was a pretence of ordinary breakfast; the little servant
necessitated that. When she saw her husband preparing to go out,
Amy asked him to come into the study.
'How long shall you be away?' she asked, curtly.
'It is doubtful. I am going to look for rooms.'
'Then no doubt I shall be gone when you come back. There's no
object, now, in my staying here till to-morrow.'
'As you please.'
'Do you wish Lizzie still to come?'
'No. Please to pay her wages and dismiss her. Here is some
money.'
'I think you had better let me see to that.'
He flung the coin on to the table and opened the door. Amy
stepped quickly forward and closed it again.
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