There was no moon for them to-night.
It was in a clear twilight, an hour later, that he saw her home.
They went half the way without speaking, till they came to the little three-cornered grove beside the public footpath. It was deserted. He proposed that they should sit there for a while.
"It's the only chance I'll ever get," he said to himself.
She consented. The plane trees sheltered them and made darkness for them where they sat.
"Winky," he said, after an agonizing pause, "you must have thought it queer that I've never thanked you for all you've done for me."
"Why should you? It's so little. It's nothing."
"Do you suppose I don't know what it is and what you've done it for?"
"Yes, Ranny, you know what I did it for, and you see, it's been no good."