He would have spent his time racing or yachting, hunting or shooting, as the fancy took him.

And yet--" "And yet what ?" Dominey asked, a little hoarsely.
"I think he loved me better than you," she said very sadly.
"Why ?" he demanded.
"I cannot tell you," she answered, with her eyes upon her plate, "but I think that he did." Dominey walked suddenly to the window and leaned out.

There were drops of moisture upon his forehead, he felt the fierce need of air.

When he came back she was still sitting there, still looking down.
"I have spoken to Doctor Harrison about it," she went on, her voice scarcely audible.

"He told me that you probably loved more than you dared to show, because someday the real Everard might come back." "That is quite true," he reminded her softly.