There was no answer. What could she say? As the world went, they had known each other rather less than eight and a half hours, but the matter was one that did not concern the world. There was a very long silence, while the breath in their nostrils drew cold and sharp as it might have been a fume of ether. “That’s the second,” Georgie whispered. “You remember, don’t you?” “It’s not!”—furiously. “It’s not!” “On the downs the other night—months ago. You were just as you are now, and we went over the country for miles and miles.” “It was all empty, too. They had gone away. Nobody frightened us. I wonder why, Boy?” “Oh, if you remember _that_, you must remember the rest. Confess!” “I remember lots of things, but I _know_ I didn’t. I never have—till just now.” “You _did_, dear.” “I know I didn’t, because—oh, it’s no use keeping anything back! because I truthfully meant to.” “And truthfully did.” “No; meant to; but some one else came by.” “There wasn’t any one else. There never has been.” “There was—there always is. It was another woman—out there—on the sea. I saw her. It was the 26th of May. I’ve got it written down somewhere.” “Oh, _you_’ve kept a record of your dreams, too? That’s odd about the other woman, because I happened to be on the sea just then.” “I was right. How do I know what you’ve done when you were awake—and I thought it was only _you!_” “You never were more wrong in your life. What a little temper you’ve got! Listen to me a minute, dear.” And Georgie, though he knew it not, committed black perjury. “It—it isn’t the kind of thing one says to any one, because they’d laugh; but on my word and honour, darling, I’ve never been kissed by a living soul outside my own people in all my life. Don’t laugh, dear. I wouldn’t tell any one but you, but it’s the solemn truth.” “I knew! You are you. Oh, I _knew_ you’d come some day; but I didn’t know you were you in the least till you spoke.” “Then give me another.” “And you never cared or looked anywhere? Why, all the round world must have loved you from the very minute they saw you, Boy.” “They kept it to themselves if they did. No; I never cared.” “And we shall be late for dinner—horribly late. Oh, how can I look at you in the light before your mother—and mine!” “We’ll play you’re Miss Lacy till the proper time comes. What’s the shortest limit for people to get engaged? S’pose we have got to go through all the fuss of an engagement, haven’t we?” “Oh, I don’t want to talk about that. It’s so commonplace. I’ve thought of something that you don’t know. I’m sure of it. What’s my name?” “Miri—no, it isn’t, by Jove! Wait half a second, and it’ll come back to me. You aren’t—you can’t? Why, _those_ old tales—before I went to school! I’ve never thought of ’em from that day to this. Are you the original, only Annie_an_louise?” “It was what you always called me ever since the beginning. Oh! We’ve turned into the avenue, and we must be an hour late.”