"Yes. It was my elder sister whom you saw." Then we all smiled, for we had spoken of the chill which had accompanied the rebuff.
"Do you think your sister will let us come to-morrow for breakfast?" ventured my companion.
"If you're there by eight."
"Because," he added, "breakfast is our last meal here."
"You're going away?"
"Yes. About noon."
"Oh," she said. And we hoped the way she said it meant that she was just the least bit sorry we were going.
With that she started to move on again.
"We'll see you at breakfast, then?"
"Perhaps," she said in a casual tone, continuing on her way.