The dear child said nothing.
"You shouldn't be surprised to see me here, running some risk it's useless to deny; but after the way we parted, what else could you expect?"
"Greta, you haven't come because of—not really because of me?"
"You've never realized," said the appealing voice, "what you were to me."
There was a longer pause and then, half choked, two little sentences fell out: "It all seems no good any more. I shall never feel the same."
"Not the same, perhaps. You may feel something better, closer. Anyhow, I couldn't let you go away, to the other side of the world without—Why, Nan you didn't even answer my letters!"
"I couldn't."
"Couldn't?"
"There wasn't any more to say."
"That's where you're wrong. There is more to say. And that's one reason why I'm here—"