"Oh, how mean! And you would have missed the opportunity but for me!"
He laughed quietly. "So I should. Then I shall owe it to you if it comes true. I will let you know if it does."
"You are sure to forget," she protested.
"No. I am sure to remember."
She regarded him speculatively. "I don't like secrets," she said.
"Haven't you any of your own?" he asked.
"No. At least—" she suddenly coloured vividly under his eyes—"none that matter."
He sat down upon the balustrade of the balcony, bringing his eyes on a level with hers. "None that you wouldn't tell me," he suggested, still faintly smiling.
She recovered from her confusion with a quick laugh. "I shouldn't dream of telling you—some things," she said.
Her hand moved a little in his as though it wanted to be free, but he held it still. He bent towards her, his grey eyes no longer searching, only very soft and tender.