"Why do you want to walk by yourself? Why won't you let me walk with you?"
"You know why. I want to think."
"But what is there to think about?" He looked blank, bewildered.
"There's so much to think about that my mind is overflowing ... "
"And are they good, the things you think about?" He sounded almost fretful of the answer, as if he regrretted asking.
"We must talk.. we have to talk... " Helen looked to the door as if to see were they out of earshot.
Martin was alarmed. "There's nothing to talk about. I just wanted to know were you happy, that's all."
Helen sighed. A heavy sigh. "Oh Martin, how many times have I told you. I was neither happy nor unhappy, there was nothing you could have done - it would have been like asking you to change the weather ... "
He looked at her, crestfallen. His face showed that he knew he should not have asked.
"But it's all different now. It's all changed. And we have always been honest with each other - that's more than many other couples ... " She spoke as if giving him crumbs of comfort.
"More than that, surely?" His voice was full of hope.
"Of course more than that - but because I never lied to you, I would always tell you if there was something important." Martin moved away, putting up his hands as if to ward off any explanation that she was about to begin. Her face was agonised. He was unable to bear it.
"No, my love, I was wrong. Haven't you every right to walk by yourself? By the lake, or anywhere. What am I doing cross-questioning you? I'm turning into an old Mother Bernard before my time, that's what I'm doing."
"I want to tell you everything ... " Her face was empty.
"Now, hasn't enough happened tonight with that poor man across the road going to meet his maker ..."