I had built such castles, Gavan, and now--" She slipped quietly from the room, and was gone.
Gavan Blake drove home, feeling a trifle uneasy.

He had expected some sort of outburst, but the curious way in which she had taken it rather non-plussed him.
"She won't stick a knife in herself, I suppose," he mused.

"Just like her to do something unusual.

Anyway, she has too much pride to talk about it--and the affair had to come to an end sooner or later." And feeling that if not "on with the new love," he was, at any rate, satisfactorily "off with the old," Blake drove his spanking ponies off to Tarrong, while Ellen Harriott went about her household work with a face as inscrutable and calm as though no stone had ruffled the mill-pond of her existence..