I went to Walter that evening after dinner. I went out alone, and to his house. I asked to see him, and was afraid I should see his mother, but she was upstairs, in the drawing-room, and he came down alone.
He came into the dining-room; there was a smell of fish there, but the dinner was cleared away. There was gas alight in the room, over the table; the maid had lit it when she showed me in; it had lit with a loud report, like a gun.
He came up to me and took my hands.
‘What is it?’ he asked me quickly. ‘What has happened?’
I said:
‘It is all a mistake. I cannot marry you. I am sorry.’
He said:
‘Why not?’
I said:
‘What do you mean?’