he said after a pause . `` You thought so -- you were right . You have been happier since you -- left me ? '' `` Yes , '' she said defiantly , looking straight into his eyes . `` And you do not regret it ? '' He bent down a little . His sleeve brushed against her shoulder . Something in his face arrested the answer she meant to make . `` I -- I -- did not say that , '' she murmured faintly . There was a burst of cheering . The free-for-all horses were being brought out for the sixth heat . She turned away to watch them . The scoring began , and seemed likely to have no end . She was tired of it all . It did n't matter a pin to her whether `` Lu-Lu '' or `` Mascot '' won . What did matter ! Had Vanity Fair after all been a satisfying exchange for love ? He had loved her once , and they had been happy at first . She had never before said , even in her own heart : `` I am sorry , '' but -- suddenly , she felt his hand on her shoulder , and looked up . Their eyes met .
He stooped and said almost in a whisper : `` Will you come back XXXXX me ? ''
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