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"What do
you want me to say? What can I say, except that I want you to be
happy? Don't you think I've gone over it all, over and over again?
I'd give my life for the right to tell you the things I think, but
- I haven't that right. Even this little time together is wrong,
the way things are. It is all wrong."
"I'm sorry, Clay. I know. I am just reckless to-day. You know I
am reckless. It's my vice. But sometimes - we'd better talk about
the mill."
But he could not talk about the mill just then. They walked along
in silence, and after a little he felt her touch his arm.
"Wouldn't it be better just to have it out?" she asked, wistfully.
"That wouldn't hurt anybody, would it?"
"I'm afraid, Audrey."
"I'm not," she said proudly. "I sometimes think - oh, I think such
a lot these days - that if we talked these things over, I'd recover
my - friend. I've lost him now, you see. And I'm so horribly
lonely, Clay."
"Lost him!"
"Lost him," she repeated. "I've lost my friend, and I haven't
gained anything.


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