There was another long silence before Franz spoke again. “Then it is the last time—”
“What?—” Emma’s tone was anxious.
“The last time we are to be together. Stay with him, if you will. I bid you farewell.”
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“There, now you see, it is you who always spoil the few hours we have together?—not I.”
“Yes, you’re right,” said Franz. “Let’s drive back to town.”
She held his arm closer. “No,” she insisted, tenderly, “I don’t want to go back. I won’t be sent away from you.”
She drew his head down to hers, and kissed him tenderly. “Where would we get to if we drove on down there?” she asked.
“That’s the road to Prague, dear.”