She paused for him to speak. But he said nothing. He was only talking to himself, saying 'Over, is it? I believe it is over. But it isn't finished. Remember, it isn't finished. We must put some sort of a finish on it. There must be a conclusion, there must be finality.'
So he talked to himself, but aloud he said nothing whatever.
'What has been, has been,' she continued. 'There is nothing that I regret. I hope you regret nothing—'
She waited for him to speak.
'Oh, I regret nothing,' he said, accommodatingly.
'Good then,' she answered, 'good then. Then neither of us cherishes any regrets, which is as it should be.'
'Quite as it should be,' he said aimlessly.
She paused to gather up her thread again.
'Our attempt has been a failure,' she said. 'But we can try again, elsewhere.'
A li
