"No," she said steadily. "No one can help me. I can't even help myself. That's the curse of it. There's nothing to do but wait." The folded hands changed position one above the other, and after a moment returned as before. "Do you understand?" she queried without preface. An instant Roberts hesitated, but an instant only. "Yes, I think so. You intimated you were expecting some one to come." "Something to happen," substituted the girl. "It's all the same," evenly. Silence followed for a space while they sat there so; breaking it, the girl looked at the other directly. "I have refused him definitely," she said, without consciousness of the seeming ambiguity of the remark. "I did so last night." "Yes," very low; and that was all. The girl drew a long breath, like one preparing for the unknown. "I could see no other way of finding out for sure. Like yourself, nothing seemed to me so bad as uncertainty." "Yes," once more; just "yes." "He sat just where you are sitting now; and when I told him he laughed." A second the brown eyes dropped, then in infinite pathos they returned to the listener's face. "You know how he laughs when he's irresponsible. It was horrible." "I know," echoed Roberts. "I've heard it." "And then he went away. I sent him away. I couldn't stand any more then. It seemed to me I'd go mad if I tried." Although the room was warm, the girl was shivering; rising, Roberts lit the gas in the grate. But he said nothing, absolutely nothing. Through wide-open eyes the girl watched him as he returned to his seat. Involuntarily she threw out both arms in a gesture of impotency absolute. "That's all," she completed, "except that I told him to return--if he felt he must. I've been expecting him every minute all day; anticipating horrors. But I haven't heard a word." It was the mystery at last, impersonate. Like a live presence it stood there between these two human beings in the room, holding them apart, and each in his separate place. Not for a moment but for minutes this time they sat in silence. Neither thought of speaking commonplaces now, nor again of things intimate. The period for these was past; the present too compellingly vital. What the man was thinking he did not say nor reveal by so much as an expression. He had given his word not to do so; and with Darley Roberts a promise was sacred. A question he did ask, though, at last. "Wouldn't you like me to go and find out for certain, Elice?" he suggested. "I'll do so if you wish." "No." It was almost a plea. "We'll find out soon, very soon, I'm positive. I'll know whatever he does. He's certain to tell me; and I wish you here if he comes. Besides, neither of us could do anything whatever to alter the inevitable, even if we tried. We must simply wait; it can't be much longer now." Once more there was a long silence, ghastly in its dragging moments, and again broken by the man.