"So you really are going?" She had turned pale, and her voice shook as she stared up at him, helplessly.

"Yes, but I am coming back just as soon as I possibly can," he said. "Besides, I shall write you, if--if you will let me?"

"Why should you say if I will let you? Don't you know--can't you see? Oh, can't you see?"

Again the yearning to clasp her in his arms rose to the surface of his inner depths, and he might have given way to it but for the panorama of accusing pictures which was blazing in his brain.

"I wish you would try--try to understand one thing, Dolly," he said, pitying himself as much as her. "I have meant everything I have said to you. The little that is good in me loves you with all its force, but I do not want you to--to even trust me--to even count on me--till I have straightened out my affairs in Atlanta. Then--then if all goes well I shall come back, and--and talk to you as I want to talk to you now--but can't."

Her brows met in a troubled frown. Her pale lips were drawn tight as if she were suffering physical pain.

"I see, and I shall not ask questions, either," she said, calmly. "I realize, too, that you are speaking to me in confidence. I shall tell no one, but I am going to pray for you. I believe it helps. It seems to have helped me many, many times."

"No, no, you must not do that," he said, quickly, almost in alarm. "I am not good enough for that."

"But I can't help it. Some philosopher has said that every desire is a prayer, and in that case I shall be praying constantly till your trouble is over."

It was as if she understood, and appreciated the momentary check he had put upon his passion. They were quite alone. His face was close to hers; it was full of shadowy yearning, and yet he made no effort to repeat the blissful caresses of the night before.

Presently he heard her sigh again.

"What is it?" he asked, uneasily.

She was silent for a moment, then she asked: "Do you believe in premonitions?"

"I don't think I do," he said, wondering what was forthcoming. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I do to some extent," she said, slowly, a reminiscent expression in her eyes, "and something seems to tell me that you and I are in danger of being parted. I have felt forewarnings often. Once I actually knew my father was in trouble when he was several miles from me, and there was no hint of the matter from any external source."




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