“I never got it; did you post it yourself?”
“Yes, that is I took it to the Abbey House and left it to be addressed there.”
“Oh! then perhaps it is there still,” and he looked at her.
“Nonsense, no one could have been so mean, not even——”
He shrugged his shoulders, a trick he had learned abroad, then said:
“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it, Isobel?”
“Yes, it matters a lot. Years of misunderstanding and doubt and loss, when life is so short. I might have married or all sorts of things.”
“What has my not receiving your letter got to do with that?” he asked, astonished.
“Nothing at all. Why do you ask such silly questions? I only meant that if I had married I should not have been here, and we should never have met again.”
“Well, you are here and we have met in this church, where we parted.”