He did not
attempt to comfort her--though he could hardly control his longing to
do so. Instead of which he said gravely, "I suppose you must
communicate with your family? They will come here perhaps for the
wedding? You have not to ask any one's consent by the laws of your
country, have you?--being a widow."
Tamara with a shamed crimson face half raised her head.
"I am free to do as I choose," she said, and she looked down in crushed
wretchedness. "Yes, I suppose they will come to the wedding."
"Lent is such an excellent excuse," he went on. "And all this society
is accustomed to my doing as I please, so there will be no great wonder
over the haste--only I am sorry if it inconveniences you--such hurried
preparation."
"How long is it before Lent?" Tamara asked without interest.
"Just under a month--almost four weeks--shall the wedding take place in
about a fortnight? Then we can go south to the sun to spend our
honeymoon."
"Just as you will;" Tamara agreed in a deadly resigned voice. "I am
always confused with the dates--the difference between the English and
Russian--will you write down what it will be that I may send it to my
father?"
He picked up a calendar which lay upon the table, and made the
calculations, then he jotted it all down on a card and handed it to
her.
She took it and never looking at him rose and made a step toward the
door, and as she passed the table where he had put her wedding ring she
surreptitiously secured it.
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