She went into the sitting-room with a curious feeling of fatefulness that outweighed her embarrassment. There was no intimacy in his speech, and that helped her also. She saw that he would not touch upon that which had happened in the night. He gave her a critical look as he entered. "Are you rested? Have you had breakfast?" She answered him nervously. "Yes, I am quite all right to-day. Mary Ann brought me some breakfast in bed." He nodded, dismissing the matter. "I have been over to see Merston. He is on his legs again, practically well. But she is not feeling up to the mark. She wants to know if you will go over. I told her I thought you would. But don't go if you would rather not!" "Of course I will go," Sylvia said, "if I can do any good." And then she looked at him with a sudden curious doubt. Had this suggestion originated with him. Did he feel, as she felt, that the present state of affairs was intolerable? Or was he, for her sake alone, offering her the only sanctuary in his power? His face told her nothing. She had not the faintest idea as to whether he wished her to go or stay. But he accepted her decision at once. "I will take you over in the cart this evening," he said. "I thought you would probably wish to go. They are more or less expecting you." His tone was practical, wholly free from emotion. But the wonder still lingered in her mind. She spoke after a moment with slight hesitation. "You--will be able to manage all right without me?" "I shall try," said Burke. There was no perceptible cynicism in his tone, yet she winced a little, for in some fashion it hurt her. Again she wondered, would it be a relief to him when she had gone? Ah, that terrible barrier of silence! If she could but have passed it then! But she lacked the strength. "Very well," she said, and turned away. "I will be ready." His voice arrested her at the door of her room. "May I have the key of the strong-box?" She turned back. Her face was burning. He had taken her unawares. "I have it here," she said, and gave it to him with a hand that shook uncontrollably. "Thank you," he said, and put it in his pocket. "I should take it easy to-day if I were you. You need a rest." And that was all. He went out again into the blazing sunshine, and a little later she heard him talking to Schafen as they crossed the yard to the sheep-pens. She saw him again at the midday meal, but he ate in haste and seemed preoccupied, departing again at the earliest moment possible. Though he did not discuss the matter with her, she knew that the cruel drought would become a catastrophe if it lasted much longer. She prepared for departure with a heavy heart. He came in again to tea, but went to his room to change and only emerged to swallow a hasty cup before they started. Then, indeed, just at the last, as she rose to dress for the journey, she attempted shyly to penetrate the armour in which he had clad himself.