much," Jean added, "that there would have been many alternatives."
"I don't know what you call 'much'!" Again Tony wondered. "And it produces no more effect upon you———"
"Than I'm showing to you now?" the girl asked. "Do you think me dreadfully stolid?"
"No, because I know that, in general, what you show isn't at all the full measure of what you feel. You're a great little mystery. Still," Tony blandly continued, "you strike me as calm—as quite sublime—for a young lady whose fate's about to be sealed. Unless, of course, you've regarded it," he added, "as sealed from far away back."
They had strolled, in the direction they had followed, as far as they could go, and they necessarily stopped for a turn. Without taking up his last words Jean stood there and looked obscurely happy, as it seemed to him, at his recognition of her having appeared as quiet as she wished. "You haven't answered my question," she simply said. "You haven't told me how long you've had it on your mind that you must say to me whatever it is you wish to say."
