"The nineteenth of November," I replied carelessly, looking back at her with my hand on the door.
"The nineteenth of November," she echoed slowly, as if saying the words to herself.
I was already on the threshold when light broke on me in a flash, and I turned, blind with remorse, and seized her in my arms.
"Sally, Sally, I am a brute!"
She laughed a little, drawing away, not coming closer.
"Ben, are you happy?"
"As happy as a king. I'll telephone Bradley not to come."
"Is it important?"
"Yes, very important. That failure I told you of is a pretty serious matter."
"Then let him come. All days are the same, after all, when one comes to think of it."