'Why?'
'You meant to represent yourself and me, didn't you?'
'Yes, to a certain extent.'
'Well, your facts were wrong, to start with.. . What I mean is, one feels that when you wrote the story you didn't know me well enough, nor yourself either. . Perhaps it was too soon to talk about us two and our relationship. .particularly about me; you haven't shown me as I really am.. . You've idealized me too much.'
'Anything else?'
'No, nothing else… I think that, after some time, when we know each other better, you must take up the story again, as you said last night. . I'm sure you'll make something good out of it.'
I said nothing; all I did was to stroke her hand. And, as I did this, I was looking over her shoulder at the capital with the demon's face on it and thinking that, in order to take up the story again, I should have not merely to know the devil as well as the unknown stonemason had known him, but also to know his opposite. 'It'll take a long time,' I said softly, finishing my thought aloud.