"Is it not nice?" she asked at once. "I was afraid I should arrive first and have to wait alone. I would not have liked that."
He held her hand close, looking down at her from his great height, his gray eyes shining into hers.
"Then you knew—you were coming?" he asked, slowly.
"Not until the moment before I came. But when I saw the curtain fall—"
"You saw that, too? A thin, gauzy thing, like a transparency?"
"Yes."
He relapsed into silence for a moment, as he unconsciously adapted his stride to hers, and they walked on together as naturally as if it were an every-day occurrence.
"What do you make of it all?" he at length asked.
She shrugged her shoulders with a little foreign gesture which seemed to him, even then, very characteristic.
"I do not know. It frightened me—a little—at first. Now it does not, for it always ends and I awake—at home."