"This morning," she said, "I went to see your mother."
"She told me so," he answered.
She broke the stem of the flower and stood upright, holding it in her hand.
"You do not ask me why I went."
"Why?" he asked.
Their eyes met, and she was silent for a moment. Then she said, with perfect deliberateness:
"I have known nothing of the life you live. I wanted to see it for myself. I wanted—to bring it near."
He drew quite close to her, his face pale, his eyes burning.
"Near!" he repeated. "To bring it near. Do you—do you know what you have said?"