I used to watch it through a pair of field-glasses, that I might catch the first glimpse of the man as he rose against the sky.
Each day I thought 'Perhaps there's a letter in your handwriting.' And you wrote twice, and in neither letter was there a hint that you were coming out to India." He was speaking in a low, passionate voice.

In spite of herself, Violet Oliver was moved.

The picture of him watching from his window in the tower for the black speck against the skyline was clear before her mind, and troubled her.

Her voice grew gentle.
"I did not write more often on purpose," she said.
"It was on purpose, too, that you left out all mention of your visit to India ?" Violet nodded her head.
"Yes," she said.
"You did not want to see me again." Violet turned her face towards him, and leaned forward a little.
"I don't say that," she said softly.

"But I thought it would be better that we two should not meet again, if meeting could be avoided.