"That is to say, nothing that you will tell me. I am not to be taken into confidence. Separation is then quite to estrange us, is it?"
"I do not know. Sometimes I almost fear it is."
"But it ought not to have that effect. 'Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and days o' lang syne?'"
"Robert, I don't forget."
"It is two months, I should think, Caroline, since you were at the cottage."
"Since I was within it—yes."
"Have you ever passed that way in your walk?"
"I have come to the top of the fields sometimes of an evening and looked down. Once I saw Hortense in the garden watering her flowers, and I know at what time you light your lamp in the counting-house. I have waited for it to shine out now and then, and I have seen you bend between it and the window. I knew it was you; I could almost trace the outline of your form."
"I wonder I never encountered you. I occasionally walk to the top of the Hollow's fields after sunset."
"I know you do. I had almost spoken to you one night, you passed so near me."