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thoughts。
He looked up； staring； and then with a deep blush〃That woman？〃 he
said。 〃I was not thinking of Madame Blumenthal！〃
After this I gave another construction to his melancholy。 Taking him
with his hopes and fears； at the end of six weeks of active
observation and keen sensation； Pickering was as fine a fellow as
need be。 We made our way down to Italy and spent a fortnight at
Venice。 There something happened which I had been confidently
expecting； I had said to myself that it was merely a question of
time。 We had passed the day at Torcello； and came floating back in
the glow of the sunset； with measured oar…strokes。 〃I am well on the
way；〃 Pickering said； 〃I think I will go！〃
We had not spoken for an hour； and I naturally asked him； Where？ His
answer was delayed by our getting into the Piazzetta。 I stepped
ashore first and then turned to help him。 As he took my hand he met
my eyes； consciously； and it came。 〃To Smyrna！〃
A couple of days later he started。 I had risked the conjecture that
Miss Vernor was a charming creature； and six months afterwards he
wrote me that I was right。
End