“Did you love your husband?” he asked as they passed above the moat-like stream.
“Tremendously.”
“For long?”
“Until after we were married.”
He halted short at that.
“It was too bad to stop just then.”
Rosina felt that there were safer places to pause than there on the railroad tracks, and went on to the other side.
“It was too bad to stop at all,” she said, when he came too.
“Assurément.”
They walked along the bank and came into the Stadtgarten, full of people laughing and talking with the liveliness that is so pleasant to see and so difficult, apparently, to import, unless it be in the steerage. Perhaps it is the Custom House which takes all the gayety out of the First and Second Classes before they can get ashore in America.