so she fancied she saw a shadow on his face, and instantly she
said to herself: "It was THERE he went with her!"

"Oh, no, not there, after all!" she interrupted herself; and now she was
sure his colour deepened.

"Where shall it be, then?"

She noticed that he did not ask the reason of her change, and this
convinced her that she had guessed the truth, and that he knew she had
guessed it. "He will always know what I am thinking, and he will
never dare to ask me," she thought; and she saw between them the same
insurmountable wall of silence as between herself and Owen, a wall of
glass through which they could watch each other's faintest motions but
which no sound could ever traverse...

They drove to a restaurant on the Boulevard, and there, in their
intimate corner of the serried scene, the sense of what was unspoken
between them gradually ceased to oppress her. He looked so light-hearted
and handsome, so ingenuously proud of her, so openly happy at being with
her, that no other fact could seem real in his presence. He had learned
that the Ambassador was to spend two days in Paris, and he had reason to
hope that in consequence his own departure for London would be deferred.
He was exhilarated by the prospect of being with Anna for a few hours
longer, and she did not ask herself if his exhilaration were a sign of
insensibility, for she was too conscious of his power of swaying her
moods not to be secretly proud of affecting his.

They lingered for some time over the fruit and coffee, and when they
rose to go Darrow suggested that, if she felt disposed for the play,
they were not too late for the second part of the programme at one of
the smaller theatres.

His mention of the hour recalled Owen to her thoughts. She saw his train
rushing southward through the storm, and, in a corner of the swaying
compartment, his face, white and indistinct as it had loomed on her in
the rainy twilight. It was horrible to be thus perpetually paying for
her happiness!

Darrow had called for a theatrical journal, and he presently looked up
from it to say: "I hear the second play at the Athenee is amusing."

It was on Anna's lips to acquiesce; but as she was about to speak she
wondered if it were not at the Athenee that Owen had seen Darrow with
Sophy Viner. She was not sure he had even mentioned the theatre, but the
mere possibility was enough to darken her sky. It was hateful to her to
think of accompanying Darrow to places where