“Dear, I understand. I do respect your disapproval, you must believe me, or else I would answer that we begin to die when we are born, that all comes from God and goes to the devil, and so what does anything matter? But listen, O father and brother of disapproval, would you like to see me before I leave England to-morrow at dawn?”
“Yes,” I said, “I would.”
“‘See’ me, I said, not ‘murder’ me!”
“But, Iris, I can qualify nothing to-night!”
“My idea is to take you into the country to-night. We go à deux. We go into a darkness. My friend, there is a sun-dial in a certain garden, and it is written that you and I shall stand by that sun-dial before we part to meet nevermore.”
“Iris, your voice is laughing, but you are not laughing. What does that mean?”
“But I am afraid! I am laughing with fear....”
“And we are driving into the country to escape your fear?”
“Oh, but that hurts! I was never before accused of being a coward....”
“Iris, I’m sorry.”