Eve and Quiltan sat in silence as course after course was brought to them. His few efforts to talk had broken down, and all he could do was to look at her—look at this woman who might become his.
As the party from the round table passed them by he said:
“Emptying now.”
Eve roused herself, and her eyes wandered round the room. Suddenly she leant forward with a sharp little gasp in her throat.
“What is it?” said Quiltan, although he knew.
She ignored his question. Her eyes were wide open and bright. Then she laughed a cold, quick laugh.
“I’m glad,” she whispered—“yes, I’m glad—glad. Look!”
She did not notice if he acted well or ill when he saw the sight he had expected to see.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I don’t know—don’t care.”