And she said, quite naturally:
“I should love to.”
“This woman is simply the divinest creature,” he told himself. “She is not like other women. She would like to go for a stroll with me, and she does not pretend the contrary. I am a great man, but I have done nothing, absolutely nothing, to deserve her goodness.”
They crossed the gardens, with difficulty, in the direction of the terrace. And around were the light and laughter of the City—the brilliant illuminated cafés and the sombre trees for a background, and thousands of pretty toilettes and thousands of men gazing at the pretty toilettes, so attractive in the gloom under the starry sky. A burst of minor music would come now and then from some little café-orchestra, or the sound of the popping of guns from a distant shooting-gallery or the roar of a lion, forced unwillingly to go through its performance in the menagerie. Then, every woman in the gardens gave a little start or a little shriek at the noise of the great cannon which signalled the commencement of the fireworks, and the rush to the terrace, where the best view was to be obtained, became a stampede.
“Do you mean to go on to the terrace?” asked Pauline.
“No, madam,” said Carpentaria, teasingly. “I mean to go on to the foreshore of the river. The tide is low—we shall be alone—we shall see both the crowd and the fireworks; and we shall be secure from interruption.”
With one of his pass-keys he unlocked a gate giving access to a tunnel leading down to the river. They passed through, and he locked the gate again. They arrived at the edge of the stream just as the first cluster of rockets was expanding itself in the firmament. The scene was impressive, and the roaring cheers of the serried crowd behind and above them did not detract from its impressiveness.
“So you have something to tell me?” he remarked, tapping his foot idly against a stone. “I also have something to tell you.”
“Really?” she answered.
He examined her face and figure. She was dressed in mourning, for Mrs. Ilam had died within two days of the events set down in the previous chapter, and Carpentaria thought that black had never suited any woman so well as it suited Pauline.... There was something about her face... In short... Well, those who have been through what Carpentaria was going through will readily understand.