"I don't know."
After a silence: "I didn't mean you to take me seriously," she said. She tried to laugh. It was no use. And, as she leaned there on the sill, her heart frightened her with its loud beating.
"Will you let me come up, Eve?"
No answer.
"Would you lock your door?"
"What do you think I'd do?" she asked tremulously.
"You know; I don't."
"Are you so sure I know what I'd do? I don't think either of us know our own minds. ... I seem to have lost some of my wits. ... Somehow. ..."
"If you are not going to sleep, let me come up."
"I want you to take a walk down by the pond. And while you're walking there all by yourself, I want you to think very clearly, very calmly, and make up your mind whether I should remain awake to-night, or whether, when you return, I ought to be asleep and -- and my door bolted."
After a long pause: "All right," he said in a low voice.