Leonard and his friends moved away. She came close up to Ralph.
He looked at her at length, with a look which appeared to disquiet her to the point that to break the silence she had to say jestingly: “Each in turn, isn’t it, Ralph? Between you and me success passes from one to the other. To-day you have the upper hand. To-morrow—but what’s the matter with you? You do look funny! And your eyes are positively savage.”
He said curtly: “Good-by, Josine.”
The color in her cheeks faded a little and she said: “Good-by? You mean au revoir.”
“No: good-by.”
“Then—then—you mean that you don’t wish to see me again?”
“I don’t wish to see you again,” he said coldly.
She lowered her eyes. Her eyelids quivered. Her lips were smiling and at the same time infinitely dolorous.
“Why, Ralph?” she murmured.
“Because I’ve seen a thing that I cannot—that I can never forgive you,” he said.