"I said that I saw beauty in the girl's face. I can only see it through yours."
Her hands clasped tightly before her. Her eyes turned full on him for an instant, then looked away into the dusk. There was silence for a long time now. His cigar burned brightly. People kept passing and repassing on the terrace below them. Their serious silence was noticeable.
"A penny for your thoughts," she said gayly, yet with a kind of wistfulness.
"You would be thrown away at the price."
These were things that she longed yet dreaded to hear. She was not free (at least she dreaded so) to listen to such words.
"I am sorry for that girl, God knows!" he added.
"She lived to be always sorry for herself. She was selfish. She could have thrived on happiness. She did not need suffering. She has been merry, gay, but never happy."
"The sequel was sad?"
"Terribly sad."
"Will you tell me—the scene?"