His companion remained apart from him, waiting.

But he did not turn towards her again, and she moved to his side.
"I know how ungrateful I must seem." She spoke without looking at him.
"I have no right to refuse anything after all you----" "Don't say that," he interrupted impatiently.

"That's the one thing I shall never like to think of." "I shall think of it always, and be glad to remember it----" "Come nearer--give me your hand----" Holding it, he drew her against his side, and they stood in silence looking upon the Seine, now dark beneath the clouding night.
"I can't feel sure of you," fell at length from Hilliard.
"I promise----" "Yes; here, now, in Paris.

But when you are back in that hell----" "What difference can it make in me?
It can't change what I feel now.
You have altered all my life, my thoughts about everything.

When I look back, I don't know myself.