"Ostend is going down dreadfully, isn't it?" she remarked. "All the ridiculous people who have just got titles have brought them here. We're leaving on Thursday." He sighed. "Don't be foolish," she said, not too flippantly. "Ah," said Conrad now, "what a long while ago that makes it seem!--the boy was not told he was foolish." "No one could be so unkind to him--and he wasn't." "You'll make me jealous of that boy before you've done. Don't you believe you could?" "I don't know what you mean," she declared. "You used to take _him_ seriously." "Oh yes, we were capital friends." "Did he deserve your friendship more than I?" "You're absurd," she smiled. Her eyes were as blue as they had been in the Solférino Garden. He looked into them, wishing he could feel the despair that had been his that radiant morning. "Is a wretched boy you only knew for a few weeks to be privileged above a man who has thought of you for years?" Within an ace he had said "for twenty years," but the blunder was nipped in time. "You mean 'hours,'" she said. "We dined last night at eight o'clock--it's just four now." "You don't believe me--you think I'm making the most of a happy accident? What if I gave you a conclusive, an overwhelming proof?" "A proof of what?" "Of what? That I am constancy itself! Supposing I told you that my only reason for coming here was to see you again. What would you say to that?" "I hope I should answer quite politely," she murmured. "Ah, you didn't doubt me once!" he exclaimed with grave reproach. "You didn't tell such tarra-diddles once," she urged. "I came here simply and solely to see you. Look at me. Will you give me your hand?--I want to repeat it solemnly." She glanced at the door, and yielded him her hand. It was very soft and agreeable to hold; he continued with no undue haste: "Now, holding your hand, and with my eyes meeting yours, I say that I came here to see you--for no one, and nothing else--that I had no idea of coming to the place till I knew you were here. That isn't all!" he detained her hand gently. "For an age I have been trying to see you. I knew none of your friends--it was awfully difficult for me. Could I call upon you and begin 'Once upon a time?' Should I write to you? You might read my note in the wrong mood. Oh, I tell you I racked my brains! That isn't all!"--her hand had been retreating again. "The day before yesterday as I passed your house--No. 62; you have window boxes, the flowers are calceolarias and marguerites this season--the day before yesterday as I passed, I saw the shutters were closed. I rang the bell. I deceived your servant, I led him to imagine you--you would be glad to welcome me. I wormed your address from him and threw myself onto the boat rejoicing. That isn't all----" She drew the hand free, nevertheless, and realising that it wasn't coming back to him yet, he concluded, "But it is enough to show you that you've been cruel."