“Edith!” he cried, jumping up hastily. She came back to him, more calm, and smiling. “I love dizzy places, but I’ve more sense than that,” she said, coming back to her place beside him. But it was only to begin again the worry about the future. “Our secret is everybody’s secret now. My husband will know it soon. He suspects it already. He loves me in his way, but it’s a way that revolts me. I’m sure that he is spying on us. He’ll revenge himself somehow. He’ll manage it very deliberately, like everything he undertakes.” “Listen, Edith. You must divorce him.” “Divorce him, yes. I’ve thought of that. But suppose he should oppose me. And he will, too. And then a divorce always takes a year or two, perhaps more. It would oblige me to go and live with my people, away from you. To be always waiting, still two long years of seclusion: I should come out of it all quite old. I should be separated from you. From you, do you understand? I have thought it all over, you see. It’s impossible.” They were silent a moment, and in the stillness that surrounded them as they leant against each other the deep calls of their two natures sounded. A rustling along the wall near them made them start. “Some one is coming,” he whispered. “Let us stay,” she replied imperiously. They stayed. Their destiny was taking its course; already it lay in their own hands. But their witness was only a she-goat nibbling the sparse grass. A little girl, who followed after her with a switch, considered them a moment blankly and went on her way again. And they were sorry that their imprudence had not been followed by some irreparable consequence. Time passed, but decided nothing for them. Should they take up their heavy chains again and go back down the hill; or should they break them, refusing to take any new precautions? She crept close along his side, trying to read the answer in his eyes. “Your eyes, your dear eyes. Why do they turn away from me?” she pleaded. “I don’t know,” he sighed, half closing them, growing dizzy as he had been just now when she leant beyond the precipice. She kissed him on the eyelids, uttering sweet words that cloaked a bold resolve. “These autumn days, these golden days, make me feel as if my heart were breaking. Each evening as it falls is cruel to me, because it has robbed me of a happiness. I am going away to-night, do you know it?” At this unexpected finish he started, and disengaged himself from her arms. “Don’t say that, Edith.” “These last days, when I’ve told you that, you’ve thought it all an idle threat. You’ve deceived yourself, Maurice. I shall go away this evening.”