Suddenly the truth flashed upon
her. She stopped. If he strolled on, she would be able to slip back.
Instead of which he abruptly turned to look down at a passing steamer,
and they were face to face.
It made her mad, the look of delight that came into his eyes. She could
have boxed his ears. Hadn't he anything else to do but hang about the
streets.
He explained that he had been listening to the band in the gardens,
returning by the Quai d'Orsay.
"Do let me come with you," he said. "I kept myself free this evening,
hoping. And I'm feeling so lonesome."
Poor fellow! She had come to understand that feeling. After all, it
wasn't altogether his fault that they had met. And she had been so cross
to him!
He was reading every expression on her face.
"It's such a lovely evening," he said. "Couldn't we go somewhere and
dine under a tree?"
It would be rather pleasant. There was a little place at Meudon, she
remembered. The plane trees would just be in full leaf.
A passing cab had drawn up close to them. The chauffeur was lighting his
pipe.
Pages:
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262