"That is part of—of your—your charm," said May, hesitatingly.
"My charm!" repeated Bingham, in a tone of sarcasm.
"I'm sorry I used the word charm," said May. "I will use a better term, your personality. You are so alarming and yet so gentle."
Bingham turned and gazed at her silently. They were now very near the Lodgings.
"Thanks," he said at last. "I know where I am. But I knew it before."
A great silence came upon them. Sounds passed them as they walked; men hurried past them, occasionally a woman, a Red Cross nurse in uniform. The sky above was still growing more and more luminous. All the rest of the way they walked in silence, each thinking their own thoughts, neither wishing to speak. When they reached the Lodgings Bingham walked into the court with her.
"Won't you come in?" she asked, but it was a mere formality, for she knew that he would refuse.
"It's too late," he said.
"And you are coming to dinner to-morrow at eight?" She laid emphasis on the hour, to hide the fact that she was really asking whether he meant to come at all, after their talk about his personality.
"Yes, at eight," he said. "Good-bye."