"That is why it would be ever so much nicer if you would just think as I did." Barrington looked at her steadily.

"If you insist, I can at least hope for the best," he said, with a gravity that brought a faint color to the listener's cheek.
It was next day when Winston took his leave, and Maud Barrington stood beside him, as he put on his driving furs.
"You told me there was something you wished me to do, and, though it was difficult, it is done," she said.

"My holding will be sown with wheat this spring." Winston turned his head aside a moment, and apparently found it needful to fumble at the fastenings of the furs, while there was a curious expression in his eyes when he looked round again.
"Then," he said, with a little smile, "we are quits.

That cancels any little obligation which may have existed." He had gone in another minute, and Maud Barrington turned back into the stove-warmed room very quietly.

Her lips were, however, somewhat closely set..