They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the outside stone steps of the flat. “And what is it all about, Veronica?” he asked, with a deliberate note of irony, looking at her a little quizzically over his glasses. They heard voices inside but stood for a full thirty seconds looking at each other. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. And I’m afraid. What a frightened fool he was! If he could not remember her name, it was equally possible that already she had forgotten his.
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