“I can see you nowhere but at home,” she answered.
He did not reply. She stood silent. She wished he would speak. The silence was dreadful. She could not bear it.
“I am very sorry,” said she, in a whisper, her eyes fastened upon the ground, her hands playing with her handkerchief.
“I hope you are,” he said, quietly, with a tone of sadness, not of reproach. There was another painful pause.
“I hope so, because I am going away,” said Abel.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“When?”
“In a few weeks.”
“Where is your home?”