The speaker broke off and crossed swiftly to the vacated chair. For a moment she searched for something among the cushions and, having found it, stepped to the window and stood with her back to the visitor, apparently contemplating the blue dusk deepening into night.
The King's Messenger stopped and stared at her graceful form outlined against the window. Then he took one step towards her and halted again. Cecily continued to be absorbed in the row of lights gleaming like fireflies beyond the Park.
"Cecily," he began, and let his mind return to an earlier train of thought. "Supposing that I—that you were going for a walk with me."
"We'll suppose it," said Cecily. "I've an idea it has happened before.
But we'll suppose it actually happened again."
"I walk very slowly nowadays," added the King's Messenger.
Cecily amended the hypothesis.
"We'll suppose we were going for a slow walk," she said.
"I can't walk very far, either."
"A short, slow walk."
"And supposing," continued the theorist in sepulchral tones, with his hands still behind his back, "supposing some fellow came along and—well, and said 'Yah! Boo!' to you—or—or something like that. Cecily—would you despise me if I couldn't—er—run after him and kick him?"