“But Roderick—”
Mr. Seddon said with a little apologetic cough:
“Mr. Welman is only Mrs. Welman’s husband’s nephew. There is no blood relationship.”
“Quite,” said Roddy.
Elinor said slowly:
“Of course, it doesn’t much matter which of us gets it, as we’re going to be married.”
But she did not look at Roddy.
It was Mr. Seddon’s turn to say, “Quite!”
He said it rather quickly.
V
“But it doesn’t matter, does it?” Elinor said.
She spoke almost pleadingly.
Mr. Seddon had departed.
Roddy’s face twitched nervously.
He said:
“You ought to have it. It’s quite right you should. For heaven’s sake, Elinor, don’t get it into your head that I grudge it to you. I don’t want the damned money!”
Elinor said, her voice slightly unsteady:
“We did agree, Roddy, in London that it wouldn’t matter which of us it was, as—as we were going to be mar
ried…?”
He did not answer. She persisted:
“Don’t you remember saying that, Roddy?”
He said:
“Yes.”
He looked down at his feet. His face was white and sullen, there was pain in the taut lines of his sensitive mouth.
Elinor said with a sudden gallant lift of the head:
“It doesn’t matter—if we’re going to be married… But are we, Roddy?”
He said:
“Are we what?”
“Are we going to marry each other?”
“I understood that was the idea.”