"She said that you would come anywhere, that you would do anything for me."
Jill tried to meet his eyes.
"When did she say that?" she asked.
"Last year--after you had gone."
He watched her as he waited for her to reply, but she kept silent. It was not a moment in which she dared to speak; moreover, other matters were waiting.
In St. Mark's, beneath the image of St. Anthony, where they had met the year before, they chose to go and make their arrangements. There is everything that is conservative about Romance. Places become dear for themselves, for the spirit of the Romance which, like a lingering perfume, still hangs about their corners. The times alter perhaps, sometimes even the woman herself is different; but the spirit, the Romance and with them often the place, remain the same.
"You understand all it means, your coming to see them?" he asked when they were seated. "You understood my letter? You realise what I've been saying?"
"Yes, every word."
"Then why did you come?"
"I couldn't bear to think of his dying without----" she hesitated, or did she hang upon the words--"without seeing your--your wife as he wanted to. Oh, John! Why did you say it? It wasn't right of you! You ought not to have done it!"