There was a rustle of skirts behind him. He heard, but did not turn. A fierce passion was rising to his brain, and he dared not turn until he had forced it under restraint. "You have come back, Jeff?" The voice was low and soft. There was something tragically humble in its tone. The man turned. "Yes, Evie." Then he added: "I told you I would." His voice was gentler than he knew. The harshness of their previous meeting had gone out of it. Nor was he aware of the change, nor of the reason, although in his mind was the memory of his promise to Nan. "And you'll tell me your decision--now?" The humility was heart-breaking. Nor was the man unaffected by it. He looked into the beautiful face, for the dark eyes were averted. Then his gaze dropped to the charming figure daintily clad in a simple morning frock of subtle attraction. But his eyes came back to the face with its crowning of beautiful dark hair, nor was there any change in their expression as a result of their survey. "As well now as later." "What is it?" For the first time Jeff found himself gazing into the wide dark eyes. There was pain in them. Apprehension. There were the signs about them of long sleepless nights. He shut the sight of these things out by the process of turning away to observe the general movement going on in the near distance. "Guess there's no use to say a deal," he said, a curiously moody note taking possession of his voice. "If I did, why, I'd likely say a whole heap more than a man may say to his wife. Guess the right an' wrong of things had best lie in our hearts. You know just what you did, and why you did it. I know what you did, an' can only guess why you did it. I don't figger any talk could convince either of us different to how we think and feel. Maybe there's Someone knows the rights of this thing better than either of us. That being so, I allow He'll ultimately fix things as He intends. Meanwhile it's for us to do as we feel, just so far as our personal earthly concerns go." The coldness in his voice had grown, and it left Evie with a complete sense of hopelessness that was harder to bear than any fears which violence of language might have inspired. His pause was prolonged. She made no effort to break it, she dared not break it. For the man, he was gathering the threads of what he had to say so as to deliver it concretely. He feared to prolong this interview. In view of his decision he must not risk any violent outbreak such as his feelings were even now striving to force upon him.