“I—I cannot kiss you here, in a public place,” she said, with a little gesture of regret.
The strange coldness about her voice caused him dismay. It proved that the apparent apathy of her letters actually arose from indifference. His suspicions were correct. Her love had grown cold.
A heavy look of disappointment crossed his face, as pausing a moment, he glanced at her, and saw that she shivered.
“Come,” he exclaimed. “You have, I believe, stood here too long. The breeze is perhaps chilly. Let us walk.”
“I’m not cold at all,” she assured him, without moving.
“Except towards me,” he observed, gloomily.
“I wasn’t aware that my attitude was one of indifference,” she said, endeavouring to smile.
“There is a change in you, Liane,” the young man declared, gazing seriously into her eyes. “Tell me, darling, what has occurred.”
She held her breath for a moment. She loved him dearer than life, yet she feared to speak the truth lest he should turn from her and renounce her as an enchantress false and unworthy. Her countenance was almost pale as the dress she wore, and her breast rose and fell convulsively.
“Nothing,” she answered at last. “Nothing has occurred.”