The man,
colourlessly uncouth, was drinking beer out of a glittering glass; the
woman, rustic and placid, leaning back in the rough chair, gazed idly
around.
There is little logic to be expected on this earth, not only in the
matter of thought, but also of sentiment. I was surprised to discover
myself displeased with that unknown young man. A week had gone by since
they met. Was he callous, or shy, or very stupid? I could not make it
out.
"Do you think," I asked Miss Haldin, after we had gone some distance up
the great alley, "that Mr Razumov understood your intention?"
"Understood what I meant?" she wondered. "He was greatly moved. That
I know! In my own agitation I could see it. But I spoke distinctly. He
heard me; he seemed, indeed, to hang on my words..."
Unconsciously she had hastened her pace. Her utterance, too, became
quicker.
I waited a little before I observed thoughtfully--
"And yet he allowed all these days to pass."
"How can we tell what work he may have to do here? He is not an idler
travelling for his pleasure. His time may not be his own--nor yet his
thoughts, perhaps."
She slowed her pace suddenly, and in a lowered voice added--
"Or his very life"--then paused and stood still "For all I know, he may
have had to leave Geneva the very day he saw me.
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