"Do you know, it was very indiscreet of me to come down here with you?" she laughed.
"Supposing somebody had met us!"
"And then?"
"What would be thought?"
"What could be thought?" he asked unsteadily.
"Scandal, perhaps. I'm very angry with you; you've made me do wrong. Why did you make me do wrong when I had such faith in you?"
"You've given me the happiest evening of my life," said Kent; "is that the wrong?"
"Do you think happiness must always be right? It's a convenient creed. Happiness at any price—and let the woman pay it, eh? That's a man's philosophy. You're quite right, though; but, then, you're at the happiest time of life. No, nobody is ever that! The happiest time of life's the past. Believe me, or believe me not, the past is always beautiful; to-morrow I shall regret to-day."
"So shall I," said Kent. "But very much indeed I appreciate it now.... What are you cynical for? You only put it on. It's not 'you' really."
"'Wise judges are we of each other.' How do you know?"