"Why?"
"Because I must be at Painted Rock by Friday, and to reach it I must travel fast and long."
"And if you do not?"
"My mission fails," he replied.
They stood there silent. Barbara dug tiny holes with the tip of her parasol.
"And that is ruin?" she asked softly, without looking up.
"I have struggled hard for many years. The result is this chance."
"I see," she replied, bending her head lower. "It would be a very foolish thing for you to stay, then, wouldn't it?"
He did not reply.
"But you are going to, aren't you?" she went on in a voice almost inaudible. "You must not go like that. I ask you to stay."