That she loved
Roscoe now I was quite certain. Through the mists I could see a way, even
if I failed to find Madras and arrange another surprising situation. She
was breathing hard with excitement.
Presently she said with incredible quietness, "Do not force me to do hard
things. I have a secret."
"I have a secret too," I answered. "Let us compromise."
"I do not fear your secret," she answered. She thought I was referring to
her husband's death. "Well," I replied, "I honestly hope you never will.
That would be a good day for you."
"Let us go," she said; then, presently: "No, let us sit here and forget
that we have been talking."
I was satisfied. We sat down. She watched the scene silently, and I
watched her. I felt that it would be my lot to see stranger things happen
to her than I had seen before; but all in a different fashion. I had more
hope for my friend, for Ruth Devlin, for--!
I then became silent even to myself. The weltering river, the fishers and
their labour and their songs, the tall dark hills, the deep gloomy
pastures, the flaring lights, were then in a dream before me; but I was
thinking, planning.
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