If you were
to disentangle the words we actually exchanged from my comments you would
see that they were not so very many, including everything she had so
unexpectedly told me of her story. No, not so very many. And now it
seemed as though there would be no more. No! I could expect no more.
The confidence was wonderful enough in its nature as far as it went, and
perhaps not to have been expected from any other girl under the sun. And
I felt a little ashamed. The origin of our intimacy was too gruesome. It
was as if listening to her I had taken advantage of having seen her poor
bewildered, scared soul without its veils. But I was curious, too; or,
to render myself justice without false modesty--I was anxious; anxious to
know a little more.
I felt like a blackmailer all the same when I made my attempt with a
light-hearted remark.
"And so you gave up that walk you proposed to take?"
"Yes, I gave up the walk," she said slowly before raising her downcast
eyes. When she did so it was with an extraordinary effect. It was like
catching sight of a piece of blue sky, of a stretch of open water.
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