"I can't talk now--and indeed there is no need to speak of this at all.

I have forgotten it." "No, you have not; how could you ?--And you will not go to-morrow; you shall not." "Yes, I must," she returned firmly.
"Then I shall go with you." "As you like.

I shall leave by the express at five minutes past nine." "Then I shall be at the station.

But at least I may walk home with you ?" "No, please.

If you wish me to think you are sincere,--if you wish us still to be friends--stay till I have left the pier .-- Good night." He muttered a return, and stood watching her as she walked quietly away.
When it was nearly midnight, Ida lay on her bed, dressed, as she had lain since her return home.