Unconscious of their surroundings they had reached Kensington Gardens, and stood by the railings outside the Palace looking over the Round Pond. A gray October day: the trees gaunt and shabby; the heavy clouds tumbled and ragged. A cold northwest wind was blowing. René’s ungloved hands were blue.
He gripped Cathleen’s arm, and she turned her happy eyes on him.
“That’s good,” she said. “You were so strong then.”
“Cathleen, I mustn’t lose sight of you again. You make me forget everything that has been, though that isn’t quite what I wanted to say.”
“I shan’t lose sight of you, my dear. It doesn’t matter what happens to either of us.”
René said:
“A good deal has happened to me.”
“Tell me.”
He told her. She received his story in silence. At last she said:
“If you have a friend, it doesn’t matter what he does. All the same, it’s a nuisance.”