“What does that mean?” she whispered.
“We know what the word two means, don't we, Lena? We are two. Never were such a lonely two out of the world, my dear! He might have tried to remind me that he himself has a woman to look after. Why are you so pale, Lena?”
“Am I pale?” she asked negligently.
“You are.” Heyst was really anxious.
“Well, it isn't from fright,” she protested truthfully.
Indeed, what she felt was a sort of horror which left her absolutely in the full possession of all her faculties; more difficult to bear, perhaps, for that reason, but not paralysing to her fortitude.
Heyst in his turn smiled at her.
“I really don't know that there is any reason to be frightened.”
“I mean I am not frightened for myself.”
“I believe you are very plucky,” he said. The colour had returned to her face. “I” continued Heyst, “am so rebellious to outward impressions that I can't say that much about myself. I don't react with sufficient distinctness.” He changed his tone. “You know I went to see those men first thing this morning.”