"Could I admit that I knew you without first pretending I didn't? Hasn't every woman a Heaven-given right to travel in a circle as the shortest distance between two points?" "Certainly; only--" She shook her head slowly. "There's no use in my telling you who I am, now, considering that I can't very well escape exposure in the near future. That might verge on effrontery--and it's horrid enough to be here with you--in spite of several thousand people tramping about within elbow touch.... Which reminds me that my own party is probably hunting for me.... Such a crowd, you know, and so easy to become separated. What do you suppose they'd think if they suspected the truth?... And the worst of it is that I cannot afford to do a thing of this sort.... You don't understand; but you may some day--partly. And then perhaps you'll think this matter all over and come to a totally different conclusion concerning my overlooking your recent rudeness and--and my consenting to speak to you." "You don't believe for one moment that I could mistake it--" "It depends upon what sort of a man you really are.... I don't know. I give you the benefit of all doubts." She stood silent, looking him candidly in the eyes, then with a gesture and the slightest shrug, she turned away toward the white road outside. He was at her elbow in two steps. "Oh, yes--the irony of formality." She nodded. "Good night, then, Mr. Hamil. If circumstances permitted it would have been delightful--this putting off the cloak of convention and donning motley for a little unconventional misbehaviour with you.... But as it is, it worries me--slightly--as much as the episode and your opinion are worth." "I am wondering," he said, "why this little tincture of bitterness flavours what you say to me?" "Because I've misbehaved; and so have you. Anyway, now that it's done, there's scarcely anything I could do to make the situation more flagrant or less flippant--" "You don't really think--" "Certainly. After all is said and done, we _don't_ know each other; here we are, shamelessly sauntering side by side under the jasmine, Paul-and-Virginia-like, exchanging subtleties blindfolded. You are you; I am I; formally, millions of miles apart--temporarily and informally close together, paralleling each other's course through life for the span of half an hour--here under the Southern stars.... O Ulysses, truly that island was inhabited by one, Calypso; but your thrall is to be briefer than your prototype's. See, now; here is the road; and I release you to that not impossible she--" "There is none--" "There will be. You are very young. Good-bye." "The confusing part of it to me," he said, smiling, "is to _see_ you so--so physically youthful with even a hint of almost childish immaturity!--and then to _hear_ you as you _are_--witty, experienced, nicely cynical, maturely sure of yourself and--" "You think me experienced?" "Yes." "Sure of myself?"