When he had spoken, although they were entirely alone in the
world and quite near to each other, it was as though the girl
could not hear him, even as though he had not spoken at all.
After a silence, the girl said: "Perhaps it would be better
for us to go back to the car."

"I won't do it again," begged the man.

"We will pretend," cried the girl, "that the car is a van and
that we are gypsies, and we'll build a campfire, and I will
tell your fortune."

"You are the only woman who can," muttered the young man.

The girl still stood in her tracks.

"You said--" she began.

"I know," interrupted the man, "but you won't let me talk
seriously, so I joke. But some day----"

"Oh, look!" cried the girl. "There's Fred."

She ran from him down the road. The young man followed her
slowly, his fists deep in the pockets of the great-coat, and
kicking at the unoffending leaves.

The chauffeur was peering through a double iron gate hung
between square brick posts. The lower hinge of one gate was