"I know it," he answered, "and I don't want you to be Isolde. If only she had married Tristan in the first place—"
"They might have been divorced in the second place."
"Don't be—don't talk that way. I'm in deadly earnest," he pleaded, but she laughed evasively.
"That was very heady sherry you gave us to-day."
He shook his head sadly, as over the flippancy of a child, and took her hand in both of his.
"It's broad daylight, Mr. Forbes, and this is Madison Avenue."
"But nobody can see us," he answered. "Look at the rain."
"What difference does that make?" she answered, tugging at her hand. But she looked, and saw how they were closed away from the world. Sheets of water splashed and spread so thickly that they covered the windows with gray curtains.
It was as if a brief tropical flood had burst upon New York.
Somehow it did make a difference that nobody could see. It always makes a difference in us that nobody can see us.