A Woman's Will Part 50

"No, no," she said unwillingly.

"Yes; why not?"

"You always come back to that same subject; your mind appears to follow a circuit, like a squirrel in a ring."

"'Wheel,' you mean."

"Well, 'wheel,' then."

"What squirrel? We never have talked of a squirrel before."

Rosina's laugh rang out among the willows.

"_Decidement vous n'etes pas du tout poli_," he cried angrily. "You say I am like a squirrel; I ask what squirrel, and you begin to laugh."

"I never said that you were like a squirrel," she exclaimed, greatly shocked; "how can you think that I would say such a thing?"

"You did," he declared bitterly. "You said I was like a squirrel in his wheel, because I tell you so often that I love you."

"Oh, monsieur, you _know_ that I never meant it in that way; how can you think for an instant that I could have--have said that--that--" She felt it impossible to define her offence again without having the corners of her mouth give way; but she went close beside him and faced his vexation with earnest, upraised eyes the while that she laid one hand upon his arm with the sweet impulsive gesture of a pleading child.

The gold had all faded from the sky, and the pink reflection in the far west was sunk beyond the horizon. The path was very solitary; they were quite alone except for an occasional peasant returning from his labor.

"Say that you understand," she said anxiously, as a break in the trees revealed a long stretch of river; "you _must_ say something, because I want to know how far it is to the next bridge."

He stopped and stared ahead.

"There are no more bridges," he proclaimed.

"No more bridges," she cried.

He shook his head.

"Must we go the whole way back along this same muddy path?"

"Yes, surely."

She turned.

"Then let us go back now. There is no fun walking any further this way after the sunset is over."

"Is it for the sunset alone that you walk?"

"What shall I say?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Say that you walk for me."

"And then what follows?"

"I follow."

They laughed together.

"I am so good to you," he declared; "even when you laugh at me I am never angry. I am truly so very good."

He appeared so well content with himself that they went the whole distance to the Peace Monument before she disturbed his placid introspection. There was a pleasure to her in simply walking beside him in silence; it was a sensation which she had never attempted to a.n.a.lyze, but its existence had become a part of her own.

"Do not let us go home," he proposed suddenly, when her turning to cross the Luitpoldbrucke recalled him to himself; "let us go somewhere and dine alone together. It is perhaps the last time; Jack returns to-morrow."

"Oh, let us," she agreed delightedly; but then her voice altered suddenly for the worse. "No, it's impossible," she said sadly, "I can't go to a cafe and dine in this short skirt."

"Why can you not?"

"Can't you see why?"

He walked off some ways to the side and gazed critically at her skirt.

"Yes," he said, rejoining her, "I can see why."

They were halfway across the bridge; he laid his hand on her arm and stopped her.

"_Je vous ferai un propos_," he said eagerly; "we will take a car going to the Ostbahnhof, and then we will leave it at a quiet place and seek a quiet cafe and dine there."

"All right," she said; "but you must telephone to the _pension_, or they won't know what has become of me."

"I can say that we are gone to the theatre," he suggested.

"They won't believe that because of this skirt."

"I will say we are gone too far and must send for a cab, and will eat while we wait."

"I think that whatever you say will sound like a lie, so it doesn't really matter."

"Then I will say that we do not return until after the supper, and nothing else."

"Where will you telephone from?"

"From the cafe. Where would I telephone from?"

Rosina looked vaguely around in the darkness.

"We are only three or four blocks from the _pension_ now, are we not?"

He glanced about.

"It will be droll if we meet some one you know."

"Yes," she said coldly; "it will be very funny--like Mrs. Jones to-day."