She looked at him with troubled eyes. “Robin, shall we begin by not asking each other too many questions?”
The arms he had clasped round her dropped slowly. “Then you don’t!” There was inexpressible disappointment in his tone.
“We can’t set the clock back,” said Cecily, at last, slowly. “I am a different person now.”
He put his head on to her knee. “I want the old Cecily!” he cried.
Cecily’s eyes filled with tears. When he raised his head he saw them.
“You mean, I might have kept her? Do you mean that, Cis?”
She made a movement of distress. “Oh, Robert, don’t. Let us leave it. We can’t wake the past. It is dead. Let us think of the future.”
“But it’s the past that makes the future,” said Robert, drearily.
“Yes,” she admitted in sad agreement.
There was a silence. Cecily looked at the fire with eyes that he watched hungrily.