“It’s a long way,” she sighed.
“Are you tired?” His voice was gentle.
“Yes, dreadfully.”
“Then let us sit down again.”
“No, I must go on. I must get back.”
“If you would talk to me, you wouldn’t notice the distance.”
“I don’t want to talk. I’m thinking. When we get to the bridge you can go back, can’t you? There will be lights and I shall be quite safe.”
“Very well, but I wish you’d tell me what’s the matter.”
“I’m very unhappy,” Henrietta said with a sob.
“What on earth for? Look here,”—he touched her arm—“did Christabel say anything?”