"Yes."
"But perhaps you have forgotten so long as—what is it?—ten—no, five years ago?"
"No."
He furled and unfurled the fan in silence, and wondered who had given her the Parma violets in her hair.
"Your—book?" she said timidly.
He stared at her blankly.
She reddened slowly.
"You—you—were going to—to travel, and write about it—strange places——" she faltered.
"Oh, ah! yes, I believe I was—five years ago."
Her face was white again now.