He took her to the door of her bedroom.
"Good-night—God bless you," he said.
She put her two hands on his shoulders and, bending forward, she kissed him lightly. It was a cruel way of showing him that she didn't care any more.
"What a revengeful woman I am, punishing him after all these years," she thought.
But he didn't see it like that.
"I think I deserve her trust," he said to himself, and then his thoughts, let out to graze, returned to the subject of fences.
"Robert," wrote Ariadne, "I am homesick for India."