Lucy did her best to avoid talking about it, but the subject was beguiling, as it almost always brought news about him from the grapevine within which Michelle was intravenously entwined. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. As if he read her thought, he spoke it aloud. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. “I will tell you the truth. "I can do without it," muttered Jack. “I meant to say good-bye to you to-night. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. Directed by the same individual, who had helped Darrell to steal a march upon him, Rowland, with Davies, and another attendant, continued the pursuit.
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