he was talking earnestly and using his hands in expressive gestures
as he talked. Starting forward, I took a few steps and then stopped,
sharply.

"I don't know what he is doing down here. Certainly he is at liberty
to come here just as we come."

Bettina's eyes strained in the darkness. "I can't see her face. If
we cross over we can catch up with them by the time they reach the
corner where we could see her in the light." The grip of my hand on
her arm made her stop. "I mean--"

"You don't know what you mean."

It was silly, childish, unreasonable, that I should speak sharply to
Bettina, and equally unreasonable that fear and horror and sickening
suspicion should possess me, but possessed I was by sensations
hitherto unexperienced, and for a moment the gaslight from the lamp
on the opposite street corner wavered and circled in a confusing,
bewildering way. Sudden revelations, sudden realizations, were
unsteadying me. Was Selwyn really some one I did not know? Was his
life less single than I believed it? Hateful, ugly, disloyal
questions surged tumultuously for a half-minute; then reason
returned, and shame that I should insult him with doubt, cooled the
flame in my face.

"It's too late to go to the Binkers. We'd better go home. We'll go
there some other afternoon."

I turned from Bettina's amazed eyes. My tone of voice a moment