"Of course not, Kathleen. What utter nonsense!"
"But if I weren't afraid," she continued half to herself. "If I weren't really terrified, I'd go into the woods and show myself there's nothing to be frightened of, wouldn't I?"
"You most certainly would not!" He said. "If you did, you'd be sure to lose your way, old girl."
For a second they walked in silence.
"D'you ever feel"—she turned to face him—"d'you ever feel you'd been in a place before—and yet you knew you'd never been there at all?"
"No," he told her a bit too abruptly.
"You needn't be so stuffy, Gregory," she murmured.
"Oh, my dear!" He caught her and held her in his arms. "Can't you see that it's all like a horrible nightmare? Can't you see that I'm not able to know positively until it's actually happened—and then—oh, my God!—If it should be too late!"
Her hands clenched rigidly on his shoulders.
"Gregory," she whispered, "tell me, dear—you've been so strange of late—so terribly unlike yourself. Tell me, dear, what is it?"