He was young still; as he had said, there was time enough.

But would any time make Lucia other than the first with him?
At last he got up and began to pace up and down the room, pushing first one, and then another article of furniture aside to make room for his walk.
"There is at least no further reason why she should not know all" he meditated.

"Since my chance is gone, I cannot make matters worse by speaking, and it will be a relief to tell her." He paused, dwelling on the idea of his speaking and her listening--how differently from what he had thought of before--and then went on--"To-morrow is as good as any other time.

To-morrow I will ask her to go out with me again--our last walk together." He stopped again.

At last he grew tired even of his own thoughts.