He had followed along the path just behind her; but now he came to her side so that he could see her shadowy face. "Yes;—the evening in which we saw that Imogen and Sir Basil were going to be friends."
"And the evening," said Valerie, "when you showed me plainly, at last, that because I seemed gold to you, Imogen's blue had turned to green."
"Yes;—I remember."
"It has faded further and further away, her blue, hasn't it?"
"Yes," he confessed.
"So that you are hardly friends, Jack?"
He paused for a moment, and then completed his confession:—"We are not friends."
Valerie stood still, breathing as if with a little difficulty after the gradual ascent. The tall trees about them were dark and full of mystery on the pale mysterious sky. Through the branches they could see the glint of the moon's diminished disk.
"That is terrible, you know," said Valerie, after they had stood in silence for some moments.
"I know it."