“That’s a good enough idea,” said their man. “Where are your father and mother?”
Meg lifted her solemn, black-lashed eyes to his. She was noticing again about the dreary look in his face.
“They died nearly four years ago,” she answered, for Robin.
“Who is with you?” asked the man, meeting her questioning gaze with a feeling that her great eyes were oddly thoughtful for a child’s, and that there was a look in them he had seen before in a pair of eyes closed a year ago. It gave him an almost startled feeling.
“Nobody is with us,” Meg said, “except Ben.”
“You came alone?” said the man.
“Yes.”
He looked at her for a moment in silence, and then turned away and looked across the Court to where the lake gleamed through the colonnade.
“So did I,” he said, reflectively. “So did I. Quite alone.”
Meg and Robin glanced at each other.