"When you think it over, you'll see that I'm right—that we're much happier as we are."
After a long silence, which somehow alarmed him, though he told himself such a feeling was absurd, she crossed the balcony to the window. As she paused there, not looking toward him, the profile of those sweet, irregular features of hers stood out clearly. That expression, though it was quiet, increased his absurd alarm. "It's getting late," she said, and her tone was gentle, apologetic. "I think I'll go in."
"Are you angry, Courtney?"
"No," she replied. "I don't think so."
"Why are you silent?"
"I don't know," she said slowly. "I seem to have stopped inside."
He went and put his arms round her. She was passive as a doll. "Why, you're quite cold, child!"
"I must go in. Good night."
"I'll join you in a few minutes."
She shivered. "No," she said. "Good night."