"It's just struck—I was a little early," he answered, feeling confused and hating himself for his confusion—
"Let's go round to the left here and turn over the bridge and then out past the Zoo and back—That makes quite a good round."
"Yes"—he said.
"I chose the Park because I thought that we could talk better—We might have been interrupted at home."
He caught then a little tremor in her voice and was grateful for it. She did feel a little that this was important for him; she sympathized perhaps more than he should have expected.
"Let's come straight to the point, Miss Rand," he said, "you have a message for me."
She nodded, felt in the pocket of her dress and produced an envelope, which she gave him.
"She thought it better that I should give it you like this because then I could say something as well—something she had asked me to say——"
His hand trembled as he saw the writing on the envelope—"Francis Breton, Esq., 24 Saxton Square"—During what months and months he had longed for that handwriting and how often had he imagined that letter lying, just as it lay now, in his hand—
He read it, Lizzie walking gravely at his side—