“To Europe.”
“Oh,” she ejaculated, with a soft, desperate sound of pain.
His eyes had been downcast and he raised them.
“Yes,” he said, mournfully. “We were to have gone together.”
“Yes,” she answered, “together.”
Her eyes were wet.
“I was very happy,” she said, “for a little while.”
She held out her hand.
“But,” she added, as if finishing a sentence, “you have been truer to me than you think.”
“No—no,” he groaned.