'You still have your old habits,' he said, casting an eye at the book. 'Are your tastes still the same, I wonder?'
'It is Dante,' she replied.
The name brought another to Wilfrid's consciousness; he averted his eyes for a moment, but spoke again without much delay.
'Still faithful to the great names. This is a lovely place to make one's study. Were you here when the chestnuts flowered?'
'Yes, once or twice.'
'I did not see them this year. And you have been walking here so often,' he added, wondering again, half to himself. 'I have been to Teddington several times lately, but only today came into the park.'
'I have not been here for a month,' Emily said, speaking at length with more case. The shock had affected her physically more than she had allowed to be seen; it was only now that her voice was perfectly at her command. Her face remained grave, but she spoke in a tone free from suggestion of melancholy. 'I teach in a school, and to-day there is a holiday.'
'Do you live at the school?'
'No. I have my own lodgings.'
He was on the point of asking whether Mrs. Baxendale knew she was in London, but it seemed better to suppress the question.