"No, no. You can't tell what will become of the bird—in the end."
His voice sounded to her ineffably sad. Eager words rose again to her lips, and again she held them back, even against the glamour of that light and air.
"You broke your promise to me," she adventured presently.
"What promise?"
"You said you would come to the house."
"I said I might." He spoke with an embracing tenderness, as if to a child. She fancied he was smiling at her through the dusk. "Besides," he continued, "I shan't come to see you there, anyway; I have decided that."
"Why not?"
"This is better."
"This?"
"This tree."