"I know."
She sat thoughtfully. Then she said:
"He didn't look a fellow to die. It seems funny. No; he didn't look it."
And then she dropped the subject, and nothing would induce her to return to it. Presently they heard a church clock strike. It chimed seven. Julian was astonished to find that time had gone so quickly.
"I must be going," he said.
The lady looked at him with an odd, half-impudent, half-girlish, and wistful scrutiny.
"I say," she began, and stopped.
"Yes?"
"I say—why ever did you come?"
The short question that expressed her wondering curiosity might well have driven any thoughtful man into tears. And Julian, young and careless as he often was, felt something of the terror and the pain enshrined in it. But he did not let her see this.