Daphne Wing burst forth: "D'you know--I think--I think your
self-control is something awful. It frightens me. If my baby had lived
and been stolen like that, I should have been half dead by now."
Gyp answered stonily as ever:
"Yes; I want her back, and I wondered--"
Daphne Wing clasped her hands.
"Oh, I expect I can make him--" She stopped, confused, then added
hastily: "Are you sure you don't mind?"
"I shouldn't mind if he had fifty loves. Perhaps he has."
Daphne Wing uttered a little gasp; then her teeth came down rather
viciously on her lower lip.
"I mean him to do what I want now, not what he wants me. That's the only
way when you love. Oh, don't smile like that, please; you do make me
feel so--uncertain."
"When are you going to see him next?"
Daphne Wing grew very pink.
"I don't know. He might be coming in to lunch. You see, it's not as if
he were a stranger, is it?" Casting up her eyes a little, she added: "He
won't even let me speak your name; it makes him mad. That's why I'm
sure he still loves you; only, his love is so funny." And, seizing Gyp's
hand: "I shall never forget how good you were to me. I do hope you--you
love somebody else." Gyp pressed those damp, clinging fingers, and
Daphne Wing hurried on: "I'm sure your baby's a darling. How you must
be suffering! You look quite pale. But it isn't any good suffering.
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