George said:
‘Forgive me, Helen. I am afraid I have made it worse. I am sorry, if I have.’
I wanted to say:
‘Forgive me, George. I love you for what you said. It was dear and brave of you to say it. It was like you, George.’
But there were people all round, near us, and my bus was coming, round the corner, and across to where we stood.
I only said:
‘It’s all right; you haven’t a bit. Good-bye.’
I held out my hand, and George took it.
Then I climbed up on to my bus, and went up the steps to the top. I turned round to wave to him again, but he did not see me. He was standing quite still, where I had left him, staring in front of him at the road.