There was long silence between us; my eyes were intent on her veiled eyes.
"You needed this to tell you?" I said at last.
"You loved her, Simon."
I would not allow the plea. Shall not a thing that has become out of all reason to a man's own self thereby blazon its absurdity to the whole world?
"So long ago!" I cried scornfully.
"Nay, not so long ago," she murmured, with a note of resentment in her voice.
Even then we might have fallen out; we were in an ace of it, for I most brutally put this question:
"You waited here for me to pass?"
I would have given my ears not to have said it; what availed that? A thing said is a thing done, and stands for ever amid the irrevocable. For an instant her eyes flashed in anger; then she flushed suddenly, her lips trembled, her eyes grew dim, yet through the dimness mirth peeped out.