She shook her head. “I am glad that it was not published,” she repeated. “It would have said to too many people—” She hesitated.
“What?” he asked.
For the first time her eyes faltered before his. They were hesitant, and deep-shadowed and troubled.
“What?” he repeated.
“What should have been said to only one.”
“Marcia!” he cried.
But the door had closed on her and he barely heard her soft-toned “Good-night” from beyond its jealous interception.