She thought of Nick's appointment with the Doctor for that evening. Suppose his psychoanalysis brought to light some such horror as these fears of hers--that would forever destroy any possibility of happiness for her and Nick. Even though the Doctor refused to recognize it, called it by some polysyllabic scientific name, the thing would be there to sever them. She wandered restlessly into the hall. The morning mail, unexamined, lay in its brazen receptacle, she moved over, fingering it idly. Abruptly she paused in astonishment--a letter in familiar script had flashed at her. She pulled it out; it was! It was a letter from Nicholas Devine! She tore it open nervously, wondering whether he had reverted to his original refusal of Dr. Horker's aid, whether he was unable to come, whether _that_ had happened. But only a single unfolded sheet slipped from the envelope, inscribed with a few brief lines of poetry. "The grief that is too faint for tears, And scarcely breathes of pain, May linger on a hundred years Ere it creep forth again. But I, who love you now too well To suffer your disdain, Must try tonight that love to quell-- And try in vain!" 24 The Dark Other It was early in the evening, not yet eight o'clock, when Pat saw the car of Nicholas Devine draw up before the house. She had already been watching half an hour, sitting cross-legged in the deep window seat, like her jade Buddha. That equivocal poem of his had disturbed her, lent an added strength to the moods and doubts already implanted by Magda's mystical tale, and it was with a feeling of trepidation that she watched him emerge wearily from his vehicle and stare in indecision first at her window and then at the Horker residence. The waning daylight was still sufficient to delineate his worn features; she could see them, pale, harried, but indubitably the mild features of her own Nick. While he hesitated, she darted to the door and out upon the porch. He gave her a wan smile of greeting, advanced to the foot of the steps, and halted there. "The Doctor's not home yet," she called to him. He stood motionless below her. "Come up on the porch," she invited, as he made no move. She uttered the words with a curious feeling of apprehension; for even as she ached for his presence, the uncertain state of affairs was frightening. She thought fearfully that what had happened before might happen again. Still, there on the open porch, in practically full daylight, and for so brief a time--Dr. Carl would be coming very shortly, she reasoned. "I can't," said Nick, staring wistfully at her. "You know I can't." "Why not?" "I promised. You remember--I promised Dr. Horker I'd not see you except in his presence."