"If he loved me he would tell me," she interrupted. "Sometimes I think that he believes that I belong to you. We came here together, you know, and we have been much together since. But what's the good in speculating! If he loved me he would not be able to hide it."
We had finished our dinner, and I suggested that we drive about the city for a while and then go to a concert.
"Let's take a little walk instead of driving," suggested Nalte, and as we rose from our table, "How beautiful the view is from here!"
In the strange glow of the Amtorian night the expanse of the great river stretched into the vanishing visibility above and below the city, while on the opposite shore gloomy Kormor was but a darker blotch against the darkness of the night, with here and there a few dim lights showing feebly in contrast to brilliant Havatoo lying at our feet.
We followed the walkway along Havatoo Lat to a narrow side street that extended away from the river.
"Let's turn here," said Nalte. "I feel like quiet and dim lights to-night, not the brilliance and the crowds of Havatoo Lat."
The street that we turned into was in the yorgan section of the city; it was but dimly lighted, and the walkway was deserted. It was a quiet and restful street even by comparison with the far from noisy main avenues of Havatoo, where raucous noises are unknown.
We had proceeded but a short distance from Havatoo Lat when I heard a door open behind us and footsteps on the walkway. I gave the matter no thought; in fact I scarcely had time to give it thought when some one seized me roughly from behind and as I wheeled about I saw another man grab Nalte, clap a hand over her mouth and drag her into the doorway from which the two had come.