“Not I,” he said. “I’m an idealist—not a business man. I’d as soon watch a stockbroker signing scrip.”
On the doorstep, a few moments later, he touched Eve’s arm and whispered:
“Run away—don’t do it—run away.”
She shook her head. “I love him,” she said.
In silence she and Wynne walked to the High Street and turned into Kensington Gardens.
“He’s losing his grip—not the man he was—getting old,” quoted Wynne.
“And yet,” she answered, “he is younger than we are.”
They fell upon a second silence, then very suddenly Wynne said:
“Are you unhappy?”
“No.”