"
He came towards her, holding out the paper.
"If you hear--if anything happens to me, would you be so kind as to
write to Millicent and tell her of it? That is the address."
She took the paper, and read the address with a dull sort of
interest.
"Yes," she said. "Yes, if you like. But--nothing must happen to
you."
There was a slight unsteadiness in her voice, which made her stop
suddenly. She did not fold the paper, but continued to read the
address.
"No," he said, "nothing will. But would you not despise a man who
could not screw up his courage to face the possibility?"
He wondered what she was thinking about, for she did not seem to
hear him.
A clock in the drawing-room behind them struck the half-hour, and
the sound seemed to recall her to the present.
"Are you going now?" she asked.
"Yes," he answered, vaguely puzzled. "Yes, I must go now."
She rose, and for a moment he held her hand. He was distinctly
conscious of something left unsaid--of many things. He even paused
on the edge of the verandah, trying to think what it was that he had
to say. Then he pushed aside the hanging flowers and passed out.
"Good-bye!" he said over his shoulder.
Her lips moved, but he heard no sound. She turned with a white,
drawn face and sat down again.
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