"Yes, I had done much to get the chance."
"It was beautiful of you. I mean it. Because you have spoken earnestly, from your heart, and I could see—I could see very well that what you were saying was true, that you were not exaggerating to please me. Oh, I am moved, believe me, I am really moved!" She put out her hand to him impulsively, and he took it, as in duty bound. But he did not raise it to his lips. Her body stiffened a little as the hand drooped slowly to her lap. A shade of apprehension aged her face. Again there was silence.
"Well?" she murmured.
"Well?"
"Enfin, when you sought the chance, when you wrote to me at last, you foresaw—what?"
"Infinitely less than you have granted, mademoiselle," he returned, with an obvious effort. "A briefer meeting, a more formal one. I thank you most gratefully for your patience, your kindness, the honour you have done me."
She gave a harsh laugh. "And now you 'regret that you must say good night'?"
"It is a fact that I have to see my man again this evening," he acknowledged hurriedly, glancing at his watch. "I had forgotten the time."
"Yes," said the woman, "you had forgotten the time—you had forgotten that the statue was modelled eleven years ago.... So you did not find her, after all! You began your search too late."
"It is not that!" he cried, distressed.