"Oh then I'm to be present?"

"Why you are present--since you know."

"I see." She turned it over. "But I mean at the catastrophe."

At this, for a minute, their lightness gave way to their gravity; it was
as if the long look they exchanged held them together. "It will only
depend on yourself--if you'll watch with me."

"Are you afraid?" she asked.

"Don't leave me now," he went on.

"Are you afraid?" she repeated.

"Do you think me simply out of my mind?" he pursued instead of answering.
"Do I merely strike you as a harmless lunatic?"

"No," said May Bartram. "I understand you. I believe you."

"You mean you feel how my obsession--poor old thing--may correspond to
some possible reality?"

"To some possible reality."

"Then you _will_ watch with me?"

She hesitated, then for the third time put her question. "Are you