Quex.
When I approach, I shall no longer see you skim away into the far vista of these alleys, or shrink back into the shadows of the corridors—[prosaically] after to-morrow.
Muriel.
No—not after to-morrow.
Quex.
In place of a cold word, a chilling phrase, a warm one—after to-morrow.
Muriel.
I am going to try.
Quex.
If I touch your hand, you'll not slip it behind your back in a hurry [touching her hand]—?