"Watching the Bridge. Why are you unhappy?" His dark eyes were bent
imploringly on hers. "I--I can't bear to see you suffer."

"Oh, _mon Dieu, je ne souffre pas_! That is saying far too much. I----"

"Was it Pontefract?"

"No, oh, no. Ponty and I are very good friends," she returned absently.
And then she remembered. She was going to marry Ponty!

"Let's walk to the sun-dial and see what time it is by the moon," she
suggested abruptly.

But at the sun-dial he insisted further, always gentle and apologetic,
but always bent on having an answer to his question.

"You are not going to marry him?" he asked.

"Who told you I was?"

"No one."

"Oh!"

"Well, _are_ you?"

His head fairly swam as he looked at her in the full moonlight. "What
made you think of it?" she returned.