At last he spoke, stammering a little.
“Madam, on the night of my coming of age I left the dancers, and came in here, and behold! you were sitting on that divan, all in white.”
“Yes,” said Essie.
“We saw each other for the first time,” he said, trembling exceedingly.
“Yes.”
“And I knelt at your feet.”
“Yes.”
A suffocating compassion overcame me. It was unendurable to pry upon them, oblivious as they were of my presence. I left the room.
“He will go out of her life in five minutes,” I said to myself, “never to return. Poor souls. Poor souls. Let them have their say.”