His question was answered.

She was a human being tuned to a sense of the tragedy of life; there were pathos and music and a great heart in the girl.
He arose instinctively, she also; for she saw she had gained a point, and scored the impression deeper, and she had wit enough left to flee upon a victory.

They were but commonplaces that remained to be exchanged, but the low, moved voices in which they passed made them sacred in the memory.

In the falling greyness of the evening he watched her figure winding through the morass, saw it turn a last time and wave a hand, and then pass through the Slap; and it seemed to him as if something went along with her out of the deepest of his heart.

And something surely had come, and come to dwell there.