Had she not always dealt him laughter and careless scorn where other women bowed down? Had she not, over and over, weighed him in the balance, in that quiet, direct way of hers, and seen the weak strain that had always been there? First the lack of purpose, the idle indifference, which, in a different guise, had led up to a memory which now tortured his mind—the memory of a mad week; of love that was not love, because his whole soul was not given with it—nay, worse, was actually given in unconsciousness elsewhere. If she ever knew of that, what must her indignation and scorn be then?… Would it not indeed separate them for ever? And even if it did, could it make him unlove her?… Why should it, since he had waited no encouragement before he gave her all? If he knew why he loved her, it might. But he did not even know that. It was a thing outside questioning; something he seemed to have had no free will about. It was just there—a strong, undeniable fact. Why reason? It did not _need_ reasoning. He loved her. He would always love her—simply because she was Hal—and as Hal, to him, was the one woman who filled his heart. No; Lorraine did not know just what fire of repentance and self-condemnation and hopeless aching her recklessness had lit for him; but it was enough that his gravity grew and deepened, and she believed she could lighten it. She made immediate plans; cancelled her present engagement at considerable monetary loss to herself, and almost before any of them realised it, had vanished to a little out-of-the-way spot in Brittany, alone with Jean. Hal was quite unhappy that she could not go to her for her own summer holiday, but Dick Bruce’s people were taking her to Norway with them, and she would not have a day to spare. She made Alymer promise to run across and see how she was, if possible, and then departed without any suspicions or forebodings, with Dudley and Dick to join the rest of the party at Hull, whence they were to start for the Fiords. When she returned early in September, Lorraine was still away, and her letters gave no hint of returning. Still a little anxious, she sought an interview with Alymer, asking him to meet her for tea the following day. The instant they met, Hal saw the change in him, and exclaimed in surprise: “Haven’t you had a holiday? You don’t look very grand.” Unable to meet her eyes, he turned away towards a small table. “Oh yes, I’ve had a holiday. I’ve been in France studying the language. I can talk like a French froggy now.” “Then of course, you saw Lorraine?” “Yes.” “I wanted to see you about Lorry,” with direct, straight gaze. He steadied his features with an effort. “I guessed so.” “Well, what is the matter with her?” “Nothing very much. She got thoroughly low I think, and is not pulling up very quickly.”